Scribbles
by Faulty Paragon
Summary: 17-year-old Glynda doesn't want anything to do with the mysterious words tattooed on her leg the night before the Atlesian students arrive for the 28th Vytal Festival, but at least she can pin the blame on James Ironwood's smug, stupid little mouth. Semblances are weird; especially when they bind you to soulmates you've never wanted. -Soulmate AU examining Ironwitch over the years.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So I know this _definitely _isn't good ol' Jimmy's Semblance, but that's why it's an AU. This story is gonna be a fun ride, encompassing from their meeting all the way to canon timelines. They're going to be a little different at the start- they're 28 years younger than canon, after all- so bear with it while they mature into the Huntsmen we know today.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-getting lost-_

"I'll be out in a second. Just… go to the amphitheatre without me."

"Are you sure, Glyn?"

"Yup." Her voice was strained, and, truth be told, she was more than a little stressed about the idea of being late for the morning assembly, but she had no choice but to stay behind for just a little while longer.

The words just wouldn't wash off.

Glynda Goodwitch scrubbed at her leg for the nth time, feeling beads of sweat emerge upon her brow. Unfortunately, no matter how much elbow grease she poured into it, no matter how many soaps and scrubs she used, there was no removing the Aura-laced words tattooed painlessly upon her skin.

It was untenable. When she had awoken that morning, she had found a line of silvery text scrawled messily upon her upper thigh. It looked like chicken-scratch; barely legible, the words had taken a decent amount of effort for the blonde to read. When she had finally deciphered the mess, however, a boundless well of fury had risen up in her core, the likes of which she had never seen before.

_Is this some kind of joke?! I didn't feel anything happening last night. More importantly, how the hell do I get rid of it?_

Examining it with her Aura, she could feel that the words were tinted with the colour of _someone else's Aura- _a phenomenon she had never even heard of before. But how could she find the culprit in a school that was welcoming over a hundred new students that day?

What were the words even for?

But glancing at her watch, she knew that there was no time to waste. Professor Ozpin, the Deputy Headmaster, would begin his speech soon, and she needed to be present for it. Her perfect attendance record would _not _be besmirched by some idiot's prank, or whatever this was.

So, she got dressed, thanking the heavens that her uniform's tights and skirt covered the ridiculous text, and jogged to the amphitheatre, making it in amongst the standing crowd of students wearing uniforms from every Academy right as Professor Ozpin stepped onto the stage.

Her team was fairly easy to find, so she settled in beside them with a curt nod. They grinned and waved, used to her icy demeanor. Her eyes fell upon the stage, but before she could focus, she heard someone on her left mutter, "Who designed this stupid school? How were we supposed to know how to get here?"

"Who knows, but I don't mind. At least the girls here are pretty cute, if you know what I mean."

With that last sentence, a vein in Glynda's forehead pulsed. _No. Wait. What?_

Turning on one sharp heel, she glared at the last speaker, a tall boy standing on the amphitheatre's floor on her left. He was very tall and built, with dark, short-cropped hair and piercing blue eyes contrasting with a pale complexion. Compared to his compatriots, he was indeed fairly dashing. With a smug smirk, he surveyed the crowd, arms crossed in his Atlas Academy blazer. When his gaze landed upon her smaller form, he started, then relaxed, sending her a quick wink.

"You little bastard," she hissed through her teeth.

Hearing her voice, the boy's back stiffened visibly, coy demeanor falling away to befuddled wonder. He pivoted to face her properly. "W-wait, what did you-"

But he couldn't finish his sentence as she swung a fist straight into his gut, feeling the words_ At least the girls here are pretty cute, if you know what I mean _pulsing on her skin.

She didn't know who this idiot from Atlas was, but his Aura was just as silver as the words on her thigh, and she was going to get this creep's presence off of her if it _was the last thing she did._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'm still not over the fact that while 'Ironwitch' is a perfectly reasonable ship name, when reversed it would be 'Goodwood'. I hope you know that GW is 100% the proper name for these two in my mind.

Also, this fic will hopefully be updated every Thursday, so keep an eye out for that.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

-_pet names-_

"Your Semblance is _what?!"_

The tall boy sighed, crossing his arms. "I don't know what about this is so hard to understand," he muttered bitterly. "It's not like you're the only one with something stupid scrawled on them."

"Oh, _bite me,_" she hissed.

"Now, now," Professor Ozpin chuckled, the Huntsman holding out his hands amicably to make peace between the two glaring students. "Mr. Ironwood, if you could explain once more."

The Atlesian boy sighed, leaning his large frame against the nearest table wearily. "I told you," he replied, his voice the perfect picture of exasperation mixed with condescension as he spoke to her, "my Semblance is able to detect those whose fate is intertwined with mine. It alerts me of this by… leaving a warning on both parties."

"And that 'warning' is the first words that you ever hear them say?" Glynda scoffed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Professor Ozpin grin and shake his head ruefully at her bitterness. Normally, she'd be utterly horrified of leaving such poor impressions upon the Deputy Headmaster, but she didn't care at the moment. She just needed _answers. _

"Ms. Goodwitch," the elder man soothed, "it's alright-"

"Sir, with all due respect," she choked out through her teeth, "you're not the one with 'at least the girls here are _pretty hot' _tattooed on your leg." Shifting back to James, she accused, "Does this happen often? Do you always end up… _imprinting _on random people? Because I would like nothing more than to stay as _far away from you _as possible."

"Oh, and 'you little bastard' is so much better to have on you?"

"You _are _one!"

"Oh, you want to fight me, little Huntress?" James snarled instantly, pushing off the table to tower over her. "Because I'll show you how strong Atlas is any day."

"Mr. Ironwo- James," Professor Ozpin placated, stepping in between them. "Glynda. Let's save that energy for combat practice, alright?" When the two finally stepped back from one another, the white-haired man chuckled. "James, answer the question, if you would. I imagine that this Semblance doesn't activate very often."

Narrowing his eyes, James shook his head slowly, gaze still locked on Glynda. "…No, sir."

"I see." Professor Ozpin walked over to the table, where he had placed a mug of coffee- a staple for the Huntsman. "While both of those phrases you've received are certainly unfortunate, I suppose I should be honoured to be one of the few, then."

James' eyes widened, and the boy suddenly lifted his left foot to sit upon one of the chairs in the room. Scrambling to grab the fabric, he yanked up the bottom of his uniform slacks, peering at the back of his calf. Curious, Glynda leaned around, reading the words, _Welcome to Beacon Academy _emblazoned in impeccable printing upon his skin. She pivoted to face the Huntsman, who merely nodded knowingly. "I was wondering why the words 'what the hell was that for' suddenly popped up on my leg yesterday."

At this, James' face blushed a deep red, and he immediately brought his foot down, standing at attention ashamedly in front of Professor Ozpin. "I'm very sorry, sir!" he cried.

"That's quite alright. I've heard quite a bit about your abilities, James, and I don't doubt the commendations you've received." James puffed his chest out proudly at this. "I look forward to working with you, James." Shifting back to Glynda, he added, "And I've known that I would work with _you, _Glynda, for quite some time. You're the top of your class, and I'd love to take you on as a professor here yourself one day. You have much skill to share with future Huntsmen and Huntresses."

Her heart swelled in her chest. He had noticed! All of her work thus far had been paying off! "Thank you, sir!"

Taking another sip of his coffee, he meandered to the door, calling over his shoulder, "But that means you two need to get along, alright? I won't have any major in-fighting should you both live up to your potential." Glancing between the two of them, he smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I'm sure you can learn to make peace." With that, he left the two of them behind in the room.

However, the moment the man turned the corner, three other young men filtered into the room sneakily. Glynda's hackles immediately raised, recognizing them as the boys who had been standing with James during the opening ceremony. "James, is it true?" one of them cackled. "Did you leave your mark on her?"

"Wait- how many people have been affected thus far?" she asked, turning back to the tall Atlesian boy.

James groaned.

His teammate answered before he could. "Two- his mom, and one of our profs-"

"Hey!" the dark-haired boy barked, but his friends just continued snickering.

"So this girl's the _one, _huh?" the second boy murmured, looking over Glynda predatorily. "Not bad, James."

Glynda practically saw red. _Two people? I'm number three? How in the world will my life be connected to this petty scumbag?_

"He only has one person per role in his life, Dr. Polendina figured," the third explained, dodging James' hand when the taller boy tried to lunge out and grab his friend. Dancing out of reach, he added, "We've got his family, his mentor- I guess you're gonna be… what, the soulmate?"

That was enough. "Over my dead body."

"Aw, is the little Beacon Huntress upset-"

And with that, Glynda pulled her Semblance through her core, channeling it in her fingertips. These boys didn't know that she had repeatedly scored as the top in the entire school for Aura manipulation. What this unethical? Probably.

But using her telekinetic Semblance to throw all four boys out of the opened window and into the bushes outside felt far more satisfying than any words.

_What nonsense. _

And with the chorus of their flustered cries and shocked yelps following her, she strutted out the door, excited to rejoin her team to enjoy their last day of winter break before classes started once more- and, hopefully forget that James Ironwood, resident ass of Atlas, had his Aura still permeating her skin.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: These two are quickly becoming my favourite pair to write.

Let me know what you think! Reviews make my day.

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Scribbles

-_sleeping in-_

Glynda hummed, shifting in her bed. She vaguely recognized just how perfect the temperature was underneath her blankets, and sighed contentedly, snuggling back into her pillow. As her mind began to slowly grow more and more alert, the main thought at hand condensed into one single phrase: _What a lovely way to start a day. _

How long had it been since she had been able to sleep in? Pretty much every day, she had 9 AM lectures or combat sessions, meaning she so rarely got to just enjoy the slowness of the mornings. With all of the extra credit she was doing, too, every day she went to bed utterly exhausted. Taking the morning off felt wonderful. What was the occasion again? Was it a holiday?

She pondered this for a few moments. _…Wait, why do I get the morning off?_

And then, panic seized her gut, and she bolted upright in her bed, hair tumbling out of her precarious bun from the sharp movement. _Oh no. _

Glancing at her Scroll, she winced. It was 8:45AM… on a Wednesday. Just a regular Wednesday.

And she was going to be late for class if she didn't run.

She messaged her teammates, but as it turned out, they had all assumed that she was excused from the morning- they simply hadn't even encouraged the thought that she had slept in by accident, based on how put-together the girl normally appeared. They were clearly apologetic, but apologies meant nothing if she didn't make it on time.

The next few minutes were a blur. Her uniform was thrown on, hair pinned back neatly as she ran down the hall towards the bathroom. Soon, she was sprinting out of the dormitory, bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder. _There's no way I'm losing my attendance record. _

By some miracle (or maybe the fact that she levitated _herself _up to a fourth floor window where her first lecture was, rather than finding the winding staircases within the building) she managed to make it into the classroom before the professor walked in.

However, her usual seat, second chair into the second row on the left-hand side of the room… it was already occupied.

She froze, mouth dropping agape slightly. Everyone knew that specific chair practically belonged to her. It was an unspoken rule, especially after the first term's exam season, that if you wanted Glynda Goodwitch's help studying for midterm and final exams, you left her seat alone in classes. Even the visiting students from the other Academies knew to leave her chair empty, although it had only been a few weeks since their arrival.

And yet, her seat was occupied.

By _James Ironwood, _no less.

Over the past few weeks, she had managed to avoid the boy as much as possible. Her team was wonderful, standing in solidarity with her when she explained what the strange tattoo was, agreeing with how disgusting the boy must be for saying such an immature thing upon their first meeting. So, whenever they had been near one another, her friends had slipped between her and the Atlesian boy, saving her the grief of actually having to interact with him.

So, she had only ever seen him from afar. He was an able fighter, that much was true- his performance in combat practice was exemplary, and he managed to succeed in every match he had ever entered. After the first round of academic testing for the term, he had also scored fairly high, although he was nowhere near meeting her marks. She couldn't dismiss his potential as a future Huntsman.

However, that didn't mean she needed to put up with him. The words his friends had so casually dropped- 'soulmate', 'the one'- they had engrained themselves in her, and she _hated it. _

Glowering, she marched up to him. "That's my seat," she announced, warning in her tone.

He raised a brow, acting nonplussed. "I didn't realize we had a seating plan," he muttered.

She crossed her arms, scrutinizing him. He was making no move to change his seat, even with her arrival. However, judging by how his teammates were biting back chuckles, she knew that this was intentional.

She didn't have time to fight back. The thought crossed her mind to simply lift him from his chair and forcibly eject him (preferably out of the window) but the professor walked in, forcing her to take the second seat in the first row, instead.

…Of _course _the tall boy liked kicking the back of her seat.

So, she made a plan. The next morning, she set her alarms a bit earlier than usual, much to the chagrin of her teammates. And, when James Ironwood walked into the lecture hall that morning, ten minutes before class started, clearly aiming to take her seat once more, she was already seated, writing supplies set up and notebook ready. She smiled icily at him. "Do you need something?"

He narrowed his eyes. "No, not at all," he said politely, taking a seat on the other side of the lecture hall with his team.

She grinned. _And that's that. _

Except that it wasn't, and the next day when she once again walked into class 15 minutes early, the tall boy was already lounging in her chair. Literally every single seat in the lecture hall was empty- his team wasn't even there yet- but he had taken her favourite chair anyways.

_What the hell is he playing at?_

"Good morning," he called brightly, sending her a wink. To another girl, it might have seemed dashing.

Glynda almost screamed in anger.

Thus began the battle for the second chair into the second row on the left-hand side of their professor's lecture hall. The competition began to bleed into her other classes, too- every single class she shared with the Atlesian boy would turn into a race to get her usual seat.

She hated it. Soon, she was finding herself rushing into class nearly an hour before it began, only to find a yawning James slumped over the desk, eyes closed as he _finished putting on his uniform at the desk. _

One day when the sleep deprivation was driving her particularly mad, she stormed up to him. "This nonsense has been going on for _weeks," _she hissed. It was officially 7:30AM, and James had beaten her by a _hair- _she had _seen _his back running into the classroom, dammit!- and the game was over. She was done. "Either give me back my seat or _so help me-"_

"Fine."

She stopped short, blinking owlishly at him. "I'm sorry, what?"

He finished tying his tie, the knot a perfect triangle, although it was a little off-center since he was without a mirror. "Yeah, you can have it." He made a move to clean his things off the desk.

"…What?"

He shrugged. "You never asked, you know," he commented wryly, stifling a yawn. "I would've let you sit here if you just _said _something."

She gaped at him, feeling her cheeks flush angrily. "Well, I'm _asking _now," she spat through clenched teeth. "Could I… have my seat back?"

James grinned, a twinkle in his dark eyes. He shrugged, leaning back. "You know, I kind of see why you like this seat," he murmured. "I'm not sure I _want _to give it up anymore."

"Why you little-"

"But," he added, holding up a hand to stop her, "I'd be willing to give it back for a small… favour."

She dropped her bag onto the long table, sitting on the edge of it, unimpressed. "What's that?" she asked dryly. "Spit it out."

Something in his eyes softened. "Look, Goodwi- Glynda," he attempted, "we have to talk at some point."

"We have to do no such thing."

He groaned. "My Semblance isn't offering _choice _here. Trust me, I've tried ignoring it. It's about _inevitability. _We might as well _try _and be friends, if we're stuck together anyways."

"I highly doubt that that's necessary," she said pointedly. "There's no reason to work with you-"

"We both want to work with Professor Ozpin one day."

Glynda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. He wasn't wrong.

She hated it.

"Dinner."

His face brightened up. "Maybe we could go to Vale-"

"In the caf," she cut in, deadpan.

"There's a food truck near the docks-"

"Do you want to eat in the hospital instead?"

He swept his belongings down the long table, then scooted into the third seat in the second row. "In the caf," he agreed, markedly cheerier than just a few moments ago.

She sighed. "You don't want to argue anymore? Are you done? Can I sit in peace?"

He gestured towards the chair. "Go right ahead. I've seen you spar when you're mad. I'd rather have you on my side."

"…Do you _have _to sit there?"

He grinned wolfishly. "You never said I couldn't sit _next _to you."

When his team finally entered the room, Glynda's face was buried in her arms, and the tall Atlesian boy received claps on the back from his friends, ignoring her utter despondence. What kind of idiot had she picked up?

…_I guess one dinner isn't the worst thing in the world. _


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: These two are such gems.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-hugging-_

It wasn't intentional. It was just… it just happened, alright?

One day, her life was completely normal, and decidedly lacking anyone from Atlas- and the next day, James Ironwood was just… _there._

Dinner alone with him the evening of their truce was surprisingly tolerable. His manners were pristine, having had proper etiquette drilled into him in Atlas Academy, where decorum and honour in uniformity were upheld above all else. His banter was light, and his wit, surprisingly sharp. The only negative part of it was the fact that his teammates (who seemed to be fond of making asses of themselves whenever James' Semblance was involved) continued to whoop and holler and cheer throughout the whole thing.

Did one of them deserve the face full of mashed potatoes Glynda lifted into his face? Maybe not. But if she had to continue listening to the strange boy loudly narrate every movement and laugh she and James made as if they were characters in a harlequin novel for just a second longer, she was going to explode.

Still, it was not the worst dining experience she had ever had, and it ended with her feeling a lot less irritated with James' existence. So, when he slid into the seat next to hers a few days later at lunch when she ate with her own team, she was more surprised than offended. His team joined him, smiling amicably- now that their battle for the best seat in class was over, they were just happy to let their teammate spend time with someone who was tied to him with his Semblance.

"Dr. Polendina's one of Atlas' greatest inventors," they explained to her when she asked about the others tied to the tall Atlesian boy, thanks to his Semblance. "He's responsible for heading most of our technological advancement in recent years."

"Where's your mark for him?" Glynda asked curiously.

He rolled up his right sleeve in a few deft motions, revealing a toned, muscular arm. Wrapped around his right forearm was a mess of scribbles. "His… his writing isn't the best," the boy admitted, but his voice was fond.

"What does it say?"

James blushed, and one of his teammates cackled, "It says 'Don't touch that!' because _someone _here thought it was smart to touch the angry robot."

She gawped at him while he blushed, swatting his friend away. "I didn't touch it in the end!" he insisted, but they all laughed. "And it's an honour to be his mentee," James mused aloud after they all calmed down. "I've learned a lot under his wing."

The words were spoken with such sincerity that Glynda couldn't help but smile a bit. _He's an idiot, but at least he's an honest idiot. _Thankfully, James didn't notice.

Her teammates, however, _did. _

Glynda herself didn't realize it, though. She only really took notice of how her friends began to find excuses to leave James and Glynda alone together once the Vytal Festival Dance, a long-standing tradition during the Festival, finally arrived.

"Glyn, are you seriously not going with anyone?" one of her teammates asked.

She shook her head. "I didn't think I would go at all, but, here we are," she replied evenly, brushing damp blonde hair tiredly. She usually tied it back- her curls often got in the way, so a bun or a braid were her usual go-to looks- but for the night, she'd let it down. "Why would I have asked anyone?"

"Aw, don't be like that, Glyn!" her friend giggled. "I'm sure you'll find… _someone _to go with."

Dances and the like didn't interest her, but when she had mentioned that by chance to Professor Ozpin a few hours before the event, the man had insisted that she attend. "Once you are a Huntress, there are fewer and fewer opportunities to find like-minded people who are all able to come together and celebrate life. Take advantage of that now, so that you can pass on the importance of protecting peaceful nights like dances and parties to the next generation," he explained. "I, for one, think it shall be a lovely night."

And so, Glynda had marched straight to her closet, found a simple, elegant black evening gown, and prepared herself emotionally for being in close quarters with every other student and professor for the evening.

But now, a different kind of dread grew in her heart. She eyed her teammates suspiciously, pausing mid-swipe of her mascara. "What does _that _mean?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Well… James isn't going anyone. I heard he turned everyone down up to this point. He was asked out a lot, though."

Glynda frowned, baffled. "Why would I care about that?"

Finishing up her hair, her teammate stood and stretched. "You're always together now! I mean, he _does _eat practically every meal with you."

_Wait… do we? But that's not _that _weird. _"…We have similar schedules, though."

"You study together now."

She groaned. "Unlike _you _lot, he actually values our education."

Her teammates all exchanged knowing looks. "He gets to class early to save you your seat, and to make sure that he can sit next to you. No one messes with the two of you."

At that, Glynda paused, eyes widening in horror. _Oh my god they're right._

Since when had that begun? Since when had he become so… ever-present in her life?

And since when did she stop _minding, _despite the stupid Aura-tattoo on her thigh_?_

Unfortunately, she had no time to recover from that shock. It was almost time to head down to the ballroom. The dance was beginning. So, she finished up her hair and makeup in a daze, trailing behind her teammates as they pushed open the doors to the dance hall, where music was already playing, the dance floor was bustling with bodies and laughter, and the room was glowing from the chandeliers hanging above, finally put to use for the event.

She garnered more than a few slack-jawed, adoring looks from the other students. She didn't usually look so relaxed, after all- her uniform was always neatly pressed, her hair meticulously tied back, her makeup minimal and discreet. She valued showing off her professionalism and strength, not her beauty.

But tonight, her blonde curls cascaded down her back freely, makeup simple, yet noticeable, and her dress clung to her voluptuous form in all the right ways. The only thing that resembled her usual look was her glasses, perched primly upon the edge of her nose.

She ignored the attention. The moment she stepped into the dance hall, she regretted coming. So, she made a beeline through the crowd, coldly refusing offers to dance until she found the punch at the side of the room. She wasn't thirsty, but the professors were all hanging out near the hors d'oeuvres while they chaperoned the event, and she just wanted to make sure that Professor Ozpin saw she was present.

Once that need was fulfilled and the Deputy Headmaster had exchanged pleasantries with her, Glynda smoothly found her way to an empty balcony away from the dancers. The music had shifted to the latest pop trends, and she had no idea how anyone took part in it- the fresh air was much more important to her.

She had only been on the balcony for a scant few minutes, though, when a familiar voice called, "Is the little Beacon Huntress not fond of dancing?"

She rolled her eyes, waving a hand to James without turning to look at him. "Not particularly in the mood," she responded evenly.

"I'm surprised," he murmured, approaching her. "You're usually gung-ho about anything related to school spirit."

She snorted. "'School spirit' is pushing it. Professionalism and academics, yes. Dancing? No."

"Did Professor Ozpin tell you to come, too?"

"…you too?"

He shrugged, leaning against the railing. Glynda took that moment to admire his profile. _Maybe he _is _fairly handsome, _she thought idly, tracing his silhouette with her eyes against the dark sky. She glanced away once he broke the silence, though. "I was going to prepare for the field trip this week instead," he admitted, "but Oz kicked me out of the library and made me show up."

She chuckled dryly.

They lounged there, leaning against the railing for a few minutes, when James finally commented, "You… you look great, by the way."

Glynda froze. She had heard many compliments that night as she had been walking through the crowd. None of them had affected her. Yet, when James said it so sincerely, eyes looking away, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears… why was it _now _that she felt flustered?

She cleared her throat after a moment, straightening her shoulders. "Thank you. You also… look good."

He laughed at that, and the tension dissolved just as quickly as it had developed. "'Good'? Well, I guess that's the best I'll get from you, huh?"

"Be grateful. I don't compliment everyone."

He finally turned to look at her, eyes thoughtful and warm and… holding something within them that made Glynda finally, truly blush. "I know."

A brisk wind swept through the balcony, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself in vain. _Maybe sleeveless was a bad choice, _she thought idly, feeling the hairs rise on her bare skin.

That thought had barely crossed her mind, however, when she felt heat envelop her, a tall, warm body standing behind her. Instinctively, she tried to pull away from the arms which wrapped around her torso, but James' quick words stilled her movements. "You should've brought a jacket. This isn't the best weather for a sleeveless dress."

Immediately, she retorted, looking up over her shoulder at him, "What I wear is none of your concern."

She felt his laughter rumble through his chest, and she turned her face away from him, hanging her head low to hide under her loose hair. "I just don't want you to get sick before our first official mission. I'm doing you a favour, Glynda," he reasoned.

She paused, then sighed, leaning back against him obediently. He was right. It was a lot warmer in his arms than out of them, as much as she hated to admit it. "Fine. I'll go along with it," she muttered.

He hummed, before muttering, "So… you saw Professor Peach dancing with ol' Pearson, right?"

Glynda instantly groaned, "Oh god, why did you remind me?"

And so, they laughed and began to talk about the ridiculousness of the whole affair, and Glynda didn't feel cold anymore. How could she- the words on her thigh seemed to _burn _with heat, being so close to James' own mark for the first time. It seemed that the intensity of the Aura's connection grew with proximity.

She found that she didn't mind that warmth.

Later than evening, when she finally returned home after the dance, her teammates tried their best to get answers out of her about how she had disappeared onto the balcony with James Ironwood for the whole night. They didn't get any of the answers they wanted, neither from her nor James, when they interrogated the Atlesian boy afterwards- but if they noticed that she was a lot more comfortable which James after the dance, they kept it to themselves. For that, Glynda was grateful.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Not much substance, but I've had a long day and my brain is fried so here's the hinted fluff. Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-geeking out-_

"You like him."

"I do not," Glynda insisted, pulling her pack over her shoulders as she stood from the long table.

Her teammates all rolled their eyes as they picked up their lunch trays. One of them grinned and added, "He likes you too, you know."

The blonde scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

Almost two weeks after the Beacon dance, they were finally going to be heading out on their first missions as teams. While most of the students had left earlier that morning, their particular two-team assignment would only require an afternoon departure. Glynda was intrigued- Professor Ozpin had been the one supervising the mission choices, and when she and her team had gravitated towards the protection of a small communication tower on southeastern Sanus with a marked rise in local Grimm, his smile had been knowing and eager, eyes a little too bright behind those dark glasses of his. It had been an unusual look for the usually placid Huntsman. So, Glynda wanted to see what was waiting for them there.

While her friends didn't have any particular preference for what mission they chose (with her in the lead, they could make it through anything, after all) they did _not_ miss the fact that James' team had also chosen the same assignment, filling in the role of the second team. Even when Professor Ozpin realized that the Atlas boys had chosen to go on the same mission, his expression had been _terrifyingly _eager.

She shuddered thinking about it all. It was going to be a long few days.

"Oh, just tell us, Glynda!" the youngest member of her team chirped.

_Oh, come on. There's no way I have feelings for him, and god knows he doesn't have feelings for me. We just… respect each other. Sort of. _And she meant it, every word. What her teammates kept fantasizing about was utterly nonsensical. Ever since that night on the balcony, she'd only become _more _aggressive towards James, if anything (the boy had decided to comment casually that he could, "probably get higher grades than her on midterms" which, for the blonde, meant all-out _war_) so she just couldn't see what her team did.

Thankfully, no matter what tactics the boy tried, she could smugly announce that she was winning, both in combat and in academics- and the competitive, excited fire that the results board had lit up in James had only rekindled her desire to outperform them all, especially the smug Atlesian boy.

One of her teammates reached up and slung their arm over her shoulder, despite the fact that she was far taller than them, and it was clearly a stretch. "Fine, fine," they waved off, "but I have another question."

"Okay, but let's go," the blonde murmured, gesturing towards the edge of the dining hall. "We're expected at the docks."

"Of course." With that, the four young women began heading over to the exit. "Glynda, do you think a good boyfriend would wait for his girlfriend whenever they headed out somewhere?"

She sighed, massaging her temples once their trays were put away. Stalking towards the double doors of the dining hall, she said loftily, "The airship is leaving soon, you know."

Her other teammate giggled, "You didn't answer us!"

She shrugged. "If you insist on knowing, I suppose so? Why does it matter right now, though?" She grabbed the handle of the dining hall's main door. "Does everyone have everything they need for camp? We should make our way down the docks-"

"Took you long enough," a voice rumbled pleasantly the moment Glynda pushed open the doors.

The blonde stopped in her tracks, blinking owlishly at the boy standing in front of her. James pushed off of the column upon which he had been leaning opposite to the main door, tucking his Scroll into his pocket and readjusting his travel pack over his shoulder. "Ready to go?"

She crossed her arms. Why in the world was James outside of the dining hall? The exchange students had had their own briefings to go to before their missions from their teachers, after all. "Some leader you are- where's your team?"

"Already on the ship," James replied smoothly, waving politely to her teammates.

_Why aren't you with them yet? _Before she could voice that concern, though, her teammate tugged her down to whisper in her ear, "See? He's waiting for you."

Instantly, she sprang away from her friend, green eyes wide as their words sank in. "Nothing is going on," she whispered through clenched teeth. And yet, she couldn't deny how James so easily fell into step beside her, meeting her flustered gaze with a quizzical look of his own. She ignored his quiet questions as he slowly fell behind, the blonde practically racing down Main Avenue towards the docks. She couldn't ignore how the tattoo on her leg warmed up in his presence as he still managed to keep up where her team lagged behind, how the boy smiled and talked about how eager he was to go on the mission- or how she couldn't help but share in his banter, eventually breaking into a full-on argument about whose team was going to perform better over the course of the trip. They had been arguing about the effectiveness of their individual weapons as of late. She was content with her whip and Semblance, but the conversation was easy to carry throughout the airship journey.

The wicked gleam in her teammates' eyes, however, was not easy to bear. She had never felt so flushed in her life.

It was going to be a long few days.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Wow, it's been a minute. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

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Scribbles

_-needing each other-_

This wasn't what she had been expecting.

The target communication tower had been suffering from an increased Grimm activity in the area, leaving the workers helpless and confused. Nearing the end of their flight to the southeastern port of Sanus, her professor had received distress calls from the main facility- the managers had been trapped in the external control room for hours, but with such shaky signals due to Grimm interference with the main signal tower, they hadn't known the full extent of the situation.

However, halfway through the footrace towards the plant from the nearest airship dock, the communications had been cut off completely, leaving all eight students and their supervising professor more than a little flustered.

It didn't take long for them to hear the sounds of an assault, though.

But the fact that the facility was _completely overrun _wasn't a part of the deal. She swatted Beowolves and Boarbatusks aside with her riding crop, kicking and stabbing stilettos into dark, acrid flesh as she mowed through the hoards.

"What is going on?!" she yelled to her teammates as they sliced their way through the massive amounts of monsters flooding the area, rushing towards the new targets.

Her accompanying professor for the trip dodged the claws of a Griffin, slicing through its wing with his giant, two-handed battle axe. "Where's the operations hanger?"

"Over here!" one of James' teammates cried, pointing ahead. His finger led them towards a cabin, silhouetted on a rising slope behind the communications tower.

Glynda reached into her gut, pulling on her Aura deftly and sending it pulsing through her fingertips around her in a wave, sensing all of the Grimm nearby. _Who do we need to take down first? _They needed to find the end of the demons in order to secure the communications tower- there were Grimm hanging off of it, which was what had likely disrupted the calls for help. Without that tower, they wouldn't be able to get backup or medical help if needed.

In the immediate area, the Grimm's presence- or, in particular, their lack of Auras, the strange void that always responded to her own Aura whenever she scanned the monsters- flooded her senses. She could feel even more demons coming in from deeper within the woods. They needed to get the workers out before they were overtaken by the next wave.

She should've been more focused.

And yet, it was someone else who caught her eye. This was the first time she'd ever seen James in action against actual creatures of Grimm. As he fought, darting around the monsters which continued their attack, his movements were practically always obscured by shadowy wisps of dissipating Grimm, bone shards flying everywhere. His revolver fired seamlessly, bullets perfectly placed through the weakest points in each white mask. Howls and shrieks filled the air while he ducked under talons and rolled lithely around gnashing teeth. However, despite all of this, his brows were only slightly furrowed, a slight, confident smirk on his lips.

He was incredible, deadly and efficient. _He _is _good, _Glynda thought in the back of her mind. _I'm impressed. _

Maybe all of his confidence was worth something, after all.

Glynda's eyes darted over to one of her teammates. Despite being occupied by grappling with an Ursa, the other girl's eyes were locked upon her, and the wide, knowing grin on her face _dangerous._

The blonde's face flushed beet-red, but the rush of blood and adrenaline was easily redirected to the serpentine King Taijitu which slithered towards her, hissing and spitting poison and acrid smoke as it reared its head, coiled and ready to strike.

Demolishing most of the herd took far more time than any of them could've wanted. Even with the nine of them, clearing a path to the main operations room took a substantial effort. By the end, Glynda was using her Semblance to simply throw the Grimm into the air, an act which James played off with relish- he cleanly shot through each airborne, disoriented Grimm with perfect accuracy. The two team leaders' teamwork was impeccable, despite never having fought side by side before.

Eventually, they managed to reach the cabin where the workers had been holed up. As the professor finished striking down his final foe, the students moved to surround the building. The small facility had reinforced doors, lined with steel and Dust, dented thanks to the attacking Grimm. The windows were all barred shut, blinds drawn behind steel gridlocks, blocking the view into the building.

Glynda banged on the door with a clenched fist. "We're the Huntsmen from Beacon!" she cried. "We're here to help!"

Her heart sank. No reply. She frowned, sending her Aura feelers into the building. Thankfully, there was indeed one Aura flickering within the room.

She banged on the door which renewed gusto. "Let us in!"

But something wasn't right here. There was a crackling in the air, an electricity buzzing through the atmosphere that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. And rather than opening the door in response to her voice and knocks, all she heard from within was hurried shuffling.

"Glynda, step back," James insisted coolly, inserting himself between her and the door. She frowned, but didn't bother fighting back. Pointing his revolver at the door, he made quick work of the bolts and hinges before stepping aside.

The blonde rolled her eyes and tossed the door aside with her Semblance, striding into the lobby within. "We're here to help, let's go-"

The words died in her throat.

Sitting in front of her was a _massive _pile of uncapped containers of electric and fire-Dust. The cylinders were stacked haphazardly, almost reaching the ceiling of the room. A few free crystals were lying in a trail to the back of the room, leading out into the next area.

The air seemed to crackle. It was essentially a bomb.

From behind her shell-shocked form, she could hear everyone follow in after her, each person pausing and voicing words of shock and fear as they took in the dangerous, crackling pile of Dust. Her professor paused and gasped quietly, "Holy hell."

Those words were all it took. A small figure peeked out of the next room, dressed in the uniform of the communications tower. "Wait- the Huntsmen actually arrived?" the tiny, mousy man muttered in awe. "I- I thought you were killed on the way!"

"We're here to help," James announced, and the man's face lit up.

However, that joy was instantly undercut by pure fear. "But I can't stop it- the fuse, it's- it's already..." His eyes, wide and watery, glanced between them all in regret and shock. "You've gotta go."

In the distance, even more howls rang through the air. The second wave of Grimm was coming, they could all sense it. Gooseflesh rose on her arms at the sounds of their piercing shrieks, but through her Aura, Glynda knew what the even greater threat was.

"_Get out!" _she commanded, sending out a shockwave of her Semblance towards the figures standing in the entrance, avoiding any ricochet towards the Dust-bomb. She needed to get them out of there as soon as possible. Her teammates and her professor all yelped and squealed and screamed at the sudden force throwing them into the air and out of the building, and she gasped from the exertion- she had gotten everyone but James, the worker, and herself out- but she didn't care. Her friends and teacher could figure out their own landing strategy. Right now, her priority was clearing the blast radius. They needed to get _out. _

_This idiot didn't think we'd make it here in time, so he turned this whole place into a time bomb. _

Wordlessly, she stalked over to the worker. There was no point asking about the others working there previous. One quick look at the back room answered all of her questions easily- a shard of a Grimm mask sat in front of a freshly-barricaded window, right atop two bodies, uniforms stained red with blood. Beside the bodies sat a giant box of Dust crystals of all varieties, along with a wired, beeping contraption attached to the largest crystal. The countdown on the small screen was moving rapidly. They didn't have much time.

_He's the only one left. It's time to go. _

So, she grabbed the short man by the scruff of his collar and sprinted out of the door. The moment she was outside, she tossed the man in the air and used her Semblance to get him even farther away.

Shifting back to the cabin, she paused when she saw the look of pure horror and surprise on his expression. He was still standing in front of the pile of Dust. "James, we've got to go!" she cried, waving at him frantically. In the back of her mind, she imagined the look on the boy's face when she threw him headlong into the distance with her Semblance. Despite the danger, the image made her smile.

James didn't respond, still standing stock-still. His face was twisted into an odd expression, almost as if he were listening to something. Suddenly, the boy pulled off one of his gloves, looking at the palm of his right hand in shock. _What is he doing?!_

Furrowing her brow, she ran back into the room, tugging him out of the room. Bracing herself to carry the hefty boy into the clear, she grunted, "Let's go, Ironwood."

Suddenly, she was thrown back as he shook himself free of her grip. "What are you doing?!" she roared.

He didn't miss a beat. "Someone's still in there!" James called over his shoulder, leaping back into the building.

Glynda froze for just one second. _What is he talking about? There's no one there! _

But she couldn't say another word. The timer beeped in the confines of the room, and on instinct, she propelled herself backwards with her Semblance, eyes shutting and body curling in protectively, arms covering her face. The sound was deafening, the heat bursting forth after her enough to singe the hair off her arms, the force of the explosion throwing her back much farther than intended. The heat was followed by a freezing chill, the burns covering her body instantly icing over, her skin cracking horrendously amidst the mixed Dust.

_James, what-_

When her feet finally found purchase on the ground once more, her Aura was entirely depleted. It had been able to heal most of her wounds, but the skin on her arms was raw and red, lips chapped and bleeding.

She staggered slowly upright, eyes blinking spots away. She had been thrown to the base of the hill. The horizon was still painted in an array of light and colour from the blast, the smoking remains of the communications tower a smoldering reminder of their lateness. As she shook her head, her ears ringing from the sound of the improvised Dust bomb, the sounds of her peers and professor calling her name finally began to reach her ears once more.

She couldn't sense anymore Grimm. She couldn't sense much of anything. She needed to rest. She needed to replenish her Aura.

_Where's James?_

That thought, repeating over and over and over again, was the only thing that remained in her mind until everything went dark.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Sad!Glyn is sad.

Let me know what you think!

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Scribbles

_-hospital visits-_

Her tattoo was cold. He wasn't there.

"He'll be fine, Glyn-"

She didn't stay behind to listen. Barely a few minutes after reawakening in a hospital in Vale, Glynda threw herself out of bed, hospital gown and mussed hair be damned. Her Aura was sparking all over her body, still knitting up wounds and making her bones creak in protest, but she didn't care.

_Where's James? Everyone else got out, so don't tell me that idiot got caught-_

But as she finished storming through the emergency ward, looking frantically at every single nameplate beside each Huntsman's room, she finally had to let the truth sink in.

One of her teammates finally caught up with her. "Glyn, he's in Atlas," she soothed, rubbing Glynda's stiff back gently and grabbing onto the blonde's arm with her other hand. "We're in Vale, remember? They immediately shipped him back to Mantle the moment the blast cleared."

Those words were chilling. "But… but I got everyone else out," Glynda whispered. "I got you all out."

Her teammate didn't respond, instead tugging her slowly back towards her own hospital room.

In her silence, Glynda was left to stew. What had happened? Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? James couldn't be hurt, right? After all, he had been amazing on the battlefield. He was too strong to have gotten hurt. As much as she had teased him for weeks before, she could say with confidence now that he completely capable of holding his own on the battlefield. They had been fighting so seamlessly together- _god, _it felt like just a few minutes before-

"Wait, how long have I been asleep?"

No answer.

As she finally re-entered her own room, she found her other two teammates waiting, eyes full of worry and concern and sadness. One of them held a tray full of teacups and a pot of tea. "We brought drinks," she murmured quietly, lifting up the tray.

Wearily, the blonde allowed her friends to situate her on the bed. A cup of pleasantly-warm tea was placed into her hand. With trembling limbs, she guided the cup to her lips, allowing the reinvigorating scent of peppermint to wash over her. The taste quickly soured on her tongue, however, painted by her worry over all the words left unsaid. Despite her hesitation, though, she quickly drained the glass, parched after sleeping for who-knows-how-long.

With the mug drained, she finally croaked out, "So… what happened?"

A weary sigh. She gripped the mug tight between her hands, the tremors in her fingertips growing more and more prominent. She needed to know what had happened- was the civilian alive? Was James' team okay? Did they lose the whole tower? Were all the Grimm cleared?

As they finally began to speak, the words all melded into one weary, broken, regretful message.

_The communication tower was destroyed. The mechanic lived. They found James. He was injured, so they took him and his team back to Atlas so he could get surgical treatment._

It wasn't until she felt one of her teammates wiping the tears which fell unbidden from her eyes that their last words sank in.

_His Aura couldn't save him; he lost his right arm. _

"He'll still be able to fight, of course," they insisted, squeezing her shoulders and patting her back and stroking her hair.

She shook her head slowly. "…That would be his dominant hand. How- how's he going to fight?"

They didn't have an answer.

"Is he coming back before the Vytal Festival properly begins?"

No answer.

"…Do you know if his surgery went well?"

No answer.

_I couldn't save him._

Her teammates collected the mug, sitting around her on the bed gingerly. "Thanks for getting us out of there, Glyn," one murmured.

On her other side, Glynda heard, "You saved us."

"We're so glad you're our leader," her other teammate soothed, leaning her head against Glynda's shoulder gently.

And she finally let out the breath she had been holding this whole time, letting herself shudder and shake slowly. She had never shown this kind of vulnerability to her team, but she couldn't help it- how could she? She had never let anyone down before.

But James had lost his _arm _because of her.

In an instant, her mind's eye flashed back to that moment. He had paused, almost as if listening to someone- as if he had heard something. Yet there had been no one else there.

_Why did you do that?_

She didn't know. But as she cried silently, the arms of her teammates wrapped around her so lovingly that she felt herself crumble. They didn't exchange any words, but for that moment, she felt safe. That was something, at least.

Later that week, when she finally spoke to Professor Ozpin to debrief the situation, she told him exactly what she had seen during the raid. His eyes flashed and his lips curled down in worry, but the glint of pride in his eyes was real. "You saved a lot of people, Miss Goodwitch. I'm proud of you."

"Sir, with all due respect, do you know whether James Ironwood will be able to compete or not in the Vytal Festival?" They hadn't had their match yet, after all.

And Professor Ozpin sighed, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, the only person who has that answer is helping James recover in Atlas right now. Until he's ready, we won't hear from him, most likely." He smiled knowingly, kindly. "I know that you've become close in the recent months."

"No, I-"

But the Huntsman was already headed towards his office door. "Pray for his recovery, Ms. Goodwitch," he called over his shoulder, sipping on his coffee. "I'm sure your wishes will reach him."

Her heart sank in her chest. What nonsense- how would praying for him lead to anything tangible?

Yet, when she left Beacon Tower that day, she did take a moment to pause despite herself. In that moment, she closed her eyes, breathing in deep, thinking of the Atlesian boy's face.

Her tattoo was cold. In her memories, though, his face was always smiling… as long as he was looking at her.

_God, I'm a fool._

She wanted to see him.


	8. Chapter 8

Scribbles

_-life goes on-_

James never came back.

And as time passed, Glynda stopped asking about him, too.

She wanted to ask, for sure. She had missed the Vytal Festival Tournament during her recovery, after all, letting some random Atlesian team claim victory. It would be two years until the next competition. Until then, she had to live with the fact that a team from Atlas- not even James' team- had defeated Beacon. It drove her mad.

She wanted to blame James, but she couldn't, instead finding herself up late at night, wishing she could leave Beacon, fly over to Atlas, and hunt down that stupid, tall, beautiful Atlesian boy. She wanted to find him and ask him everything. What had happened? Why had he stayed behind in the tower that day? Why hadn't he listened to her when she told him to run?

And if he was gone now… how could she ever move on?

Her tattoo pulsed every time she thought of him, a faint heat searing her skin. It never lit up the way it used to, though. She missed it.

She thought she could move on. It was disgustingly easy to focus her energy on other things. Over time, her team became the strongest in Beacon. Her icy demeanor and strict manner only solidified in his absence; without James to soften her with his quiet, teasing grin and his willingness to challenge her… she had no rival.

She grew legendary. Within the next two years, Professor Ozpin was finalizing details for her to become a teaching assistant after her graduation. Her team had grown immensely, and her control over her Semblance had become so refined, she rivaled all of their professors. She was already a Huntress.

But the tattoo remained, and whenever she asked Professor Ozpin, he always said that 'James was just fine'.

Glynda never received a call from him, though.

And then, the Vytal Festival went to Atlas, and Glynda Goodwitch was ready to finally take the championship, just like she deserved two years earlier. She was going to destroy the Atlesian competition. She was ready.


	9. Chapter 9

Scribbles

-_finding each other-_

She didn't intend for it to happen like that.

She had dreamed (whether she would admit it or not) for _two years _what that day might have looked like. She had stared at her reflection in the mirror after every mission she had ever gone on, tracing the letters scribbled on her thigh with her eyes, her fingertips, her Aura- wondering when she would just _feel _something from it again.

But nothing came. Even as she walked through the halls of Atlas Academy, striding past students from all walks of life as she guided her team with her head held high, she felt no warmth in the frigid Mantle air. As she entered the theatre, which normally served as the sparring and demonstration hall, for the opening ceremony of the 29th Vytal Festival Tournament, her entire body was just cold- prim and proper, representing Vale and Beacon with the pride and grace of one of the highest-ranking student teams in the world. But it was all without feeling.

And then, just as the headmaster and General of the Atlesian Military and Atlas Academy was entering the stage, poised to begin his welcome speech for all of the international students present for the tournament, a blaze of heat soared up her spine.

It stemmed from the tattoo.

Her breath caught in her throat as she spun around, using her height to search the crowd frantically. All of the Atlesian students had marched in, parading in rank and file in order to demonstrate their uniformity. "That's what happens when your military combines with the Huntsmen," she heard someone mutter behind her. "I don't like it."

Glynda didn't care. The fact that all of the Atlesian students were together was _perfect. _Thanks to that, her search didn't take long at all- within just a few moments, she spotted a familiar silhouette near the front of the crowd.

Hands pushed her gently on the back. "Go, Glyn," her teammates murmured lovingly, understanding and joy radiating from their eyes.

Swallowing thickly, she nodded, immediately rushing forward through the crowd. Startled and confused students called out as she pushed them aside, but she was in no mood to be polite- her eyes were only focused on the figure standing at the edge of the audience.

She didn't even need to approach them head-on. With at least fifteen bodies between them still, her leg was _burning_, and based on the way the figure shifted and turned as well in clear discomfort, they could feel it, too. So, she froze, heart hammering in her ribcage, breath stuck in her throat, holding herself firm and upright and strong and _goddammit I am not fainting today._

James Ironwood turned all the way around at last, finally locking eyes with her.

Her thigh _burned._

Thanks to their heights, she could see him clearly over the crowd. He looked… good. Older. Stronger. Done-up in his Atlesian uniform, his pale skin contrasted perfectly with his dark eyes and perfectly-groomed, swept-back hair. His body had filled out, shoulders broader on his tall frame that she remembered.

On his forehead, however, sat a glinting, metallic piece. Something stirred in Glynda's heart. She didn't know what that piece was, but she was going to find out, whether he wanted to tell her or not.

Any demeanor of calmness he had wanted to hold for himself fell away as he finally took in Glynda's proud silhouette at last. After a moment of blank staring, his stiff expression immediately fell away to pure wonder, and soon, he was pushing past people, falling out of rank despite protests from those standing in orderly lines around him, until he was right in front of her.

"Hey," he rumbled, his voice just a little breathless in its tenor.

She gulped. "Hey."

He grinned, and she could see his palm pressing against his left thigh- pressing against the place where both of their tattoos rested. He could feel it, too.

"Psst, James," a familiar voice hissed, "get back over here! What are you doing?"

Glynda leaned around the tall man, only to see James' teammates staring slack-jawed back at her.

James turned around, too, whispering, "Give me a second." He faced Glynda once more, his expression positively glowing with warmth and pride. "It's… the little Beacon Huntress."

Although his tone held nothing but affection, Glynda's good mood soured instantly. Glynda's hopeful smile fell away, the memory of their first meeting rising back up into her mind. She glowered at him, disgust and regret and sheer disappointment taking over, annoyance building up as his team slipped out of their own files to join them at the back of the Atlesian student's assembly. Expectant, welcoming grins lit up their faces as they watched her reaction, a few of them waving to her team, who awaited her further back in the audience.

Glynda only had one response to that reductive comment.

"…You little bastard."

And James' face just _fell, _and his team just _howled _with laughter, earning them sharp reprimands from nearby professors, and her own team immediately began to holler and screech and scold her from afar- and Glynda didn't care, pouting all the way back to her team.

But her heart was _soaring. _

_He's okay. He's… really alive._

And, as the familiar heat of her tattoo warmed her from the inside out for the first time in almost two years, she realized it. While the world hadn't drastically changed, a little piece of it had just been made a little better, now that James was there again.

_Like hell I'll tell him that, though. _

Her tiny smile didn't fade the entire opening ceremony.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Happy New Year, y'all! Let me know what you think of this little update.

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Scribbles

_-waiting-_

After years of finding her tattoo wholly unresponsive to anything, nothing was more maddening that this situation- this constant jump between warmth and colour and life upon her skin, and then, nothing.

It was driving Glynda mad.

Unlike when Beacon hosted the festival, Atlas Academy kept their students separated from the visiting students. This fact displeased Glynda's professors to no end- after all, the Vytal Festival was meant to be a time of forging strong bonds between kingdoms and academies- but there was nothing they could do with the strict protocol in place which ruled the icy northern school.

Two years earlier, back when Glynda and James had met, all of the international students had come to Beacon a few months before the tournament to grow acclimatized to the environment and the city. In contrast, for this year's tournament (and, according to some classmates whose siblings had fought in the tournament years past, all other tournaments held on Mantle) the festival had begun a scant few days after the students had arrived in order to ensure the visitors were in and out of the strict academy as soon as possible. Even the selection of the tournament's competitors were different than usual, having been chosen purely based on earlier test scores due to the lack time to have actual assessments in Atlas.

Unfortunately, that meant that outside of large assemblies, there were very few opportunities for Glynda and James to ever speak to one another. She often saw his back turning the corner, or heard his voice saying hello as she walked to the training hall with her team; however, they had no opportunities to ever really just _talk. _Even their mealtimes were separated based on academy.

"I'm so ready to leave this school," Glynda's teammates said repeatedly as they layered up on the first day of the tournament, ready to head out of Atlas Academy and into the floating Amity Colosseum.

Glynda agreed wholeheartedly. She was frustrated beyond measure in this school- after all, they had managed to accomplish nothing by properly coming to Atlas. At least when the other students had come to Beacon for the previous Vytal Festival, they had been given weeks of training in Beacon's halls. They had _learned _something. What had Glynda gained from her visit to Atlas?

_I don't like the cold._ She was ready to leave this place and its eternal winter chill once and for all.

She was determined to excel in the tournament. It was to bring Beacon honour, yes- but, and almost more importantly, it would give her a chance to finally talk to James again. On the battlefield, they wouldn't be separated, unlike the rest of the time in Atlas.

And, more importantly, she would finally see how his recovery had occurred. No one wanted to divulge anything about the boy during their stay in the academy, so she could do nothing but hold her tongue and bide her time.

She prayed with all her heart for his strength to have stayed true, despite his injury. _Please tell me I managed to actually save him._

As she entered the battlefield for her first match with her team, the stray thought flitted across her mind of whether she would actually be able to get to James. If either of them were disqualified early, she wouldn't be able to fight the Atlesian boy.

There was no real cause for concern. As the countdown timer rolled down for their first match, her teammates murmured a simple promise to their leader: "Don't worry. We'll make sure you get to the finals to crush him properly."

Immediately, her grin grew, and she felt her confidence soar through the roof. Raising her head high, she snapped her riding crop in the air, the resounding snap of leather enough to cast a pale shadow upon the opposing team's faces. At side, her team traded feral smiles of their own, teeth bared and ready to fight.

And, of course, her team delivered.

Foe after foe was defeated, left lying on the ground in pain as their Auras flashed onscreen and their voices grew weak. As the days wore on, the audience quickly understood that this team from Beacon was a true force of nature, tearing through every opponent without mercy. Glynda was proud to be left standing nearly unscathed after almost every battle- she hadn't earned her title as one of the strongest students in Beacon for nothing.

For every match Glynda and her teammates fought, however, James was keeping up in the opposite end of the bracket. His own team soared through the preliminaries, through the doubles rounds, all the way to the finals.

When Glynda was chosen to represent her team in the finals, Professor Ozpin's smile was nothing short of giddy. "The final individual match shall indeed be a match to remember," he promised her solemnly. "I cannot wait to see what you two do."

She watched him carefully, gauging his tone. "Sir, the two main finalists haven't been decided yet," she said.

He shrugged, nonplussed. "I have faith in you two, Miss Goodwitch."

She didn't bother to ask in whom he had faith. The answer was clear, judging by the embarrassment rendering her silent, and the glint in his eye as he walked away.

He was right to be confident. After the seven other individual matches which led up to the final match came to a close, the only two figures left standing on the field were Glynda and James. They circled one another, watching each other's movements carefully as the commentators continued to rile up the audience in anticipation of their match.

Glynda could distantly hear the cries and cheers of her teammates screaming from the audience, along with the familiar voices of James' team supporting their leader. She paid them no mind, her gaze fixated upon her opponent.

"Glynda Goodwitch of Beacon and James Ironwood of Atlas Academy. Hold onto your seats, ladies and gentlemen, because this match is going to get _dangerous,_" the announcer boomed through the stadium, raising another uproarious cheer from the crowd. "It's time for the final match of the 29th Vytal Festival Tournament. The winner will take home the crown. Are our two competitors ready?"

She pulled out her riding crop, fingers flexing tight against the polished handle.

"3!"

He bent his knees slightly, hand hovering at his hip above his gun holster. "Draw it," she said.

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

He smirked. "I want to see how long I can go without using it."

"2!" the announcer continued.

She rolled her eyes, flicking her wrist so that the leather snapped in the air. "You'll regret that."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"1!"

"I've been waiting a long time for this," she admitted loudly.

Apparently, that was enough to startle him. He relaxed, confusion crossing his face. "What do you mean?"

"Go!" The crowd lost it, their cheers deafening in the colosseum stands.

Her left hand absentmindedly brushed against her leg, the tattoo searing in his proximity. Almost automatically, she saw him do the same.

_Time to finally see what you're made of, James Ironwood._

And, while he was distracted with the heat undoubtedly coming from his own tattoo, she struck.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: We're back with a lil' update.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

-_scar worship_-

Her teammates figured out where she was going first, even before she said anything- even before she decided to take the leap herself.

They all smiled, placing their medals beside the trophy which lay on their dresser. Now that the Vytal Festival Tournament was over, they would be leaving at dawn. Other than immediate toiletries and their uniforms, everything was packed and ready to go for the next day. Normally, this would've been enough to appease Glynda, but despite her victory, she continued to shift and fidget all evening.

So, they knew where she wanted to go.

"Go, Glyn," they insisted, biting back knowing smiles and devilish winks. "Go."

"I don't know what you're-"

But before she could continue, three sets of gentle, yet forceful hands shoved Glynda's toiletry kit in her grip and shooed her into the hallway in nothing but her button-up nightgown and slippers. "Go quick before the professors catch you after lights out!" they squealed, closing the door shut before she could claw her way back in.

Quick footsteps echoing down the corridor were the only reason she didn't simply break down the door to scold her teammates. There was no way she was going to be caught dead in naught but a dressing gown, not right after winning the whole tournament.

So, she began to walk. Where her feet took her, at first, seemed unknown- but as her path instinctually led her to the Atlesian students' wing in the large, austere dormitory of Atlas Academy, she knew, whether she liked it or not, where her teammates intended for her to take refuge for the night.

It was not James who opened the door, but one of his teammates. Upon seeing the tall blonde's face, however, the normally-jovial young man immediately blushed, barking commands at his teammates. The door slammed in her face for a moment, and she could hear the flurry of activity rushing around behind the closed entryway. After an agonizingly tense minute, however, the door finally opened, and three sheepish young men slipped out, avoiding eye contact. She rolled her eyes, protesting hotly, "Nothing is going to happen, just calm down-"

"Be safe!" "Have fun!" "You kicked his ass today fair and square- gonna take it to the bedroom too, huh- ah!" The last teammate was dragged away against his will by the others, narrowly avoiding a kick from the blonde as she gaped at them from in front of the door.

It took her a few moments to calm herself, but finally, she heard a familiar voice call, "You… you coming in? You'll get caught by the prof on duty, you know."

Taking a deep breath, she strode into the bedroom.

James was seated on a bed so neatly made she could've bounced a quarter off of the covers. She raised a brow in disdain, glancing around at the room quickly. It was barren, most likely to adhere to the strict standards imposed by the Academy. Why was she surprised?

And yet, she could see hints of James here, too. As she walked towards him, slippers quietly sliding against cold hardwood flooring, she glanced over the same notebooks and bag she had seen him use when he had been studying at Beacon. She saw his jacket hung up alongside his teammates, and a repair kit- most likely for his prosthetics- packed up neatly on the corner of the main study table. The colours were all muted and simple, matching their plain white uniforms and the bluish-grey, snow-covered land outside.

She didn't hate it. It certainly didn't feel like _home, _but… something about it felt safe, still.

Finally, she was seated in front of him, presumably on someone else's bed. How long had she wanted this encounter to happen? Certainly not under these circumstances, no- but she had longed for a moment to speak to him, alone, properly, ever since finding him again in Atlas. _Why is it that we finally get to meet, and it's when we don't have any time? _"I'm heading home tomorrow."

"I know. We have drills all morning- we wouldn't be able to say goodbye."

"My team asked me to come visit," she lied smoothly.

He nodded, and she had to drag her own eyes away from the visible blush lighting his cheeks all the way to his ears. "My team wanted me to come speak to you anyways, so it works out."

Silence. She shivered in the chill of the night air- no matter how much heating was in the building, the cold from the perpetual ice outside still lingered indoors. "Good match today."

"It was," he hummed.

She let out a long, slow breath, fingers tapping impatiently against her thigh. With him barely a foot away, just seated across from her, the Aura tattoo was enough to heat up her whole body. "You… you fight really well…" _Despite it all,_ she offered.

He snorted. "I didn't get to the finals for nothing, you know."

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

As she made eye contact, however, his dark eyes watched her carefully, widening as her gaze trailed to the metal implant above his right brow. Immediately, his own gloved hand flew up to touch the implant, a wry smirk on his lips. "It's… probably pretty unusual to see this kind of thing in Vale, huh?"

She shrugged, biting back the hundreds of questions that begged to spill forth. _How are you doing? You fought well today- you almost bested me- how do you fight with that arm? How much of you is metal? How did you survive? _"I suppose," she commented offhandedly.

His eyes narrowed, inspecting her for a moment. Then, unbidden, he began to remove his shirt.

Glynda sprang to her feet. "Excuse me, wha-?"

But his shirt fell away, exposing a muscled, tone chest, pale skin… and an entirely cybernetic attachment, the prosthetic taking over the entire right side of his body. Wires and gears whirred and blinked and buzzed, barely audible in the silence of the room.

Her eyes widened in shock, eyes tracing the puffy scar tissue that bordered where metal met flesh all the way down to his belt. It looked like it bisected his body nearly in two.

She gulped. _How… how much…? _Softly, she admitted, "I thought it was just your arm."

"I wish." His eyes were guarded, watching her with something she'd never seen in his eyes before- fear.

_Is he scared of what I'll say?_

Without a word, she unbuttoned the front of her gown, letting the top half fall down her arms slightly to reveal her décolletage. She paused, glancing down to trace her own scars with her eyes. They were faint, but definitely present. After all, she hadn't made her way to being leader of one of the best teams in Beacon without her own fair share of losses, whether she would admit them or not. Her Aura had run out multiple times ever since her fight alongside James. And each time, she had accrued her own scars.

A Huntress was always proud of her scars. They were proof of survival.

So, she lifted her chin and displayed them for James to see.

"You've… you've gotten a lot stronger, huh?" he murmured.

"As have you."

"Not enough to beat you, though."

She shrugged. "Maybe one day."

A small smile. "I can't wait for our rematch."

And then, Glynda gave in.

Quietly, she readjusted the top of her nightgown and crossed the small gap between their seats, climbing onto his bed. He shifted to make room for her, and she reached out calloused, scarred fingers, running them down the seam between his implants and his real body. "What happened that day?"

And just like that, the weight that had been bearing down on her for the past two years was finally lifted, freeing her from the burden of just… not knowing. _I said it. It's finally done._

He reached up and grabbed the hand which traced his skin gently, squeezing tight. Without the glove, his prosthetic hand was cold. She shivered at the touch, but didn't pull away.

James murmured, "We can talk about it later. Not tonight."

Instantly, she bristled. "What do you mean, I'm leaving tomorrow-"

But then, his arms were around her. She thought for a moment about scolding him so she could finally figure out the truth of the matter, but the heat emanating from the tattoo was almost too much to bear- and so, when he brought her in close, she let him.

The heat didn't fade. The tattoo was there to stay. And that night, Glynda felt safe.


	12. Chapter 12

Scribbles

_-shopping together-_

She should have known.

The twinkle in Professor Ozpin's eye should have been the first tell-tale sign, the second being that if he had really needed anything, there were more than enough qualified _professors_ who could have given him a hand. The newly-appointed Headmaster of Beacon Academy preferred to let the students spend their time after school freely, after all. It was highly unusual to have him asking students to perform tasks on their own time.

And yet, the young professor had approached her earlier that day, despite being just a few days back from her team's first mission of the year. His request was simple enough- nothing a quick trip into Vale wouldn't fix. "It's just a few things, really," he had explained nonchalantly. "Nothing too big, but I trust your sense and good eye. Just bring back receipts to the office, and we'll get them reimbursed for you, if that's alright."

The request itself had seemed so innocuous. Who was she to doubt Professor Ozpin?

_Goddammit. _She should have doubted him.

James' eyes would not lift from the display case, the young man examining the shelves in the Valean store with all the intensity of a frantic scholar searching texts. Judging by the redness lighting the tips of his ears, the flush in such stark contrast to his icy white Atlesian uniform, she knew that the whole thing must have been a setup.

_…at least he's as embarrassed as me. _

The memories of their last meeting, nearly six months earlier in the privacy (or lack thereof) of his team's dormitory was more than enough to send nervous jitters down her spine. She wouldn't let him see that, though. _No point in making him think I'm some love-struck little girl, _she thought idly, pushing away the teasing memories of her roommates' never-ending jabs at her newfound-unclear-destined-murky relationship status.

Clearing her throat, she began to busy herself with collecting the actual items on her list. "So, who schemed to send _you_ here?"

After a moment of clumsy throat-clearing, James responded, "Dr. Polendina." The betrayal and weariness in his tone was clear.

"Great, so he and Professor Ozpin are both in on this-"

"Professor Ozpin sent you?"

Glynda was about to commiserate with him- glad to do so, since after all, how could her own headmaster do this to her? – but James' voice squeaked on the professor's name, and she couldn't help herself.

Biting back a wry grin, she commented dryly, "Indeed, he was the one who sent me here. Something wrong?"

James didn't respond for a few minutes, but as Glynda turned away, continuing to fill her basket with the various odds and ends needed, she could feel James' presence just a few paces behind.

Her leg was warm, after all.

Finally, James offered, "We're here on a mission. Ambassadorial work. We'll be heading back to Atlas soon."

"Ah," she said, "so it was too busy to even call? Couldn't even say hello?"

Although her back was turned, she could see in her mind's eye how his mouth had probably fallen agape. It made her chuckle silently, shaking her head to clear the silly image.

And yet, James didn't respond. After a minute, she glanced back, only to find a look of doubt knitting the young man's brows together. She frowned, unsure of what was going on.

Sensing her confusion, he admitted at last, "I… wasn't sure you wanted me to."

She narrowed her eyes. "If I said yes, then would you have done it?"

"Yes." Despite the doubt still lingering on his face, there was no hesitation in his voice.

Slowly, she nodded. "…Okay."

She strode ahead to the cashier, ignoring his little yelp as he tried to follow, and the sound of him knocking over a display with his checkout basket, and his embarrassed, clumsy apologies to the store staff as he desperately tried to remain dignified. She didn't acknowledge any of it.

Yet, as she punched in her credit card's number and bagged up her items, the smile on her face didn't leave.

He wanted to call her. It hadn't been just a one-night thing. It had meant something. Her thigh burned.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: This fun pandemic life we lead. It's wild, eh?

That being said, if you're interested in streaming games and voice chatting, let me know. Goodness knows I've got to fill my days during social distancing.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-making fun-_

In the wintry chill of Vale's late December months, Glynda found herself sitting in a small briefing room in the main building of Beacon Academy.

"You're going to have backup," her professor explained somberly as he looked out to Glynda's teammates one by one, finally landing his stern gaze upon her. "If there really is Grimm activity there, then send a message to us. We'll send more Huntsmen as appropriate, but for now, the twelve of you should be fine."

"Twelve? That's too much for just a little bit of 'Grimm activity', isn't it?"

No one responded.

"So there's two other teams coming with us?" one of her teammates asked, curiosity piqued.

Professor Ozpin stepped forward, a small smile lighting his face. "Yes. One team is from Beacon, and the other, which is already waiting at the docks, is from Atlas-"

Involuntarily, Glynda sighed, raising an unimpressed brow to her professor. "Is it-"

"Now, now, Miss Goodwitch," Professor Ozpin interjected, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in barely-concealed amusement, "you know that I would only assign compatible teams whenever possible."

"Oh, we're sure as hell _compatible,_ Professor, don't you worry!" one of Glynda's teammates catcalled, much to her immediate chagrin.

The white-haired man chuckled, sipping at his coffee leisurely as the other professor in the room explained, "The other team from Beacon should be here soon."

Glynda had no time to even open her mouth to inquire about the other team when the door burst open and a whirlwind of silver, red and black waltzed in.

"What nonsense is this for again?"

"Yo, teach- is there gonna be any… _downtime _on this mission?"

"Don't call him that, Qrow- and didn't anyone read the mission notes I sent you?"

A blond in board shorts stumbled in after the initial three entered the room, the confused young man blinking wide-eyed at the rest of them. "We have notes?"

Professor Ozpin sighed, gesturing towards the newcomers. "They're rookies, but they'll do well, trust me. Everyone, meet Team STRQ."

Glynda nodded cordially at the quartet while the Huntsman introduced her own team before launching into a condensed summary of their mission. Through this, the newcomers had somehow managed to bring themselves into some form of orderly line. The gruffer pair on the end, a young man and woman whose eyes looked vicious and blood-red amidst the pallor of their cheeks, watched her carefully through narrowed lids. A petite woman stood next to them, her welcoming smile barely peeking out from underneath the large, silvery hood of her cape. The final member of the ragtag team, sticking out like a sore thumb, was the blond man who was glancing around the room with wide eyes.

"Woah," he murmured in awe, "aren't you guys the ones who won the Vytal Festival Tournament last year?!"

Immediately, the two red-eyed members shared cold glances before settling their gazes upon her. And then, in a blur of movement, they had already strutted out of the meeting room, clearly heading towards the school's entrance.

"They're just eager to get to the docks," the petite woman explained kindly. "We'll see you there!" Grabbing the blond's hand, she pulled her teammate out of the room, following after the brooding pair.

Silence filled the room for a moment in the wake of the first-years. Glynda took the time to think. She recognized those four from around Beacon, but being in her final year, she hadn't really interacted with them. Sharing a glance with her teammates, it was clear that none of them had encountered the younger students, either.

Finally, Glynda asked, "So, they're our backup?"

"One team, yes," Professor Ozpin replied.

"You're sending _rookies_ out with us."

"They'll get good experience, and I'm sure they'll be helpful to you."

Turning to face him head-on, she straightened her shoulders, staring at the headmaster impassively. "James, I get. But why them?"

But Professor Ozpin's eyes flashed, and any words of doubt instantly dried upon her tongue.

"Just like you, I trust those kids. I hope you will all find strong allies in one another."

There was a heat to his tone- a tension. She didn't know how to categorize it. There was something he wasn't telling her.

However, in their staring match, it was inevitable that she would lose. Her teammates tugged her sleeve, beckoning her towards the door. "C'mon, Glyn," they called, "let's meet the little twerps by the docks."

"What's the rush?" she asked, eyes still focused on the headmaster.

She heard giggles from behind her. "We can't leave James waiting, can we?"

Instantly (regrettably) her cheeks coloured, and she nodded curtly to the Huntsman. "We'll get back here as soon as possible," she said, nothing but professional.

He nodded back, tension easing from his face, leaving behind a warm, fond smile. "Good luck, students."

Glynda barely held back the urge to roll her eyes as she led her team proudly out to the airship docks at the end of Main Avenue, curiosity silently churning within her gut. Who was this new team? Professor Ozpin had mentioned three years earlier that he wanted her and James to get along, like they would be good allies in the future- did he think that those first-years would also have a part to play in whatever Ozpin's grand scheme really was?

Arriving at the awaiting ship, her thoughts shifted away from the headmaster. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt the familiar heat inscribed in her skin, the tall Atlesian man coming into view a moment later. _Finally. Maybe you know those four kids. Maybe you have answers._

Before she could run anything by him, however, he had jogged up to her, waving her teammates to enter the ship before she could. Unlike his usual neutral expression, James' face was split into a wide grin, the man practically fighting off the urge to bounce on his feet.

Crossing her arms, she raised a brow, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the instinctive smile off her face. "Something happen?"

Quickly, he pulled off his glove. "Are you ready for this mission?" he asked, his excitement palpable.

She snorted, readjusting her pack on her shoulders. "Yes. Now, what's got you flustered? Did the new kids say anything?"

He shook his head, showing her his left wrist- the organic one. And, glowing with a dark blue sheen were the words, _No worries- I've got you._

James' eyes were practically sparkling. It was a kind of joy that Glynda had never seen in him, almost akin to a child with a new toy. "Don't you get it, Glyn?" he cried, slipping the glove back on. "This mission- something is going to happen. Someone important is going to be there." He clenched his fist, eyes shining. With a lightness in his step, he grabbed her hand and began to quickly pull her into the ship.

_…what? _She sputtered, "What, are you always this excited to see new names?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Before she could stop herself, she scoffed, "I hardly think that's always the case- how about for me?"

He said nothing in reply, but he did squeeze her hand. She didn't pry further, though. The moment she could pull away from him, she abandoned her pack alongside her teammates and found a secluded corner, far away from the rookies and her teammates and the crowing, raucous laughter of James' team. The trip was spent mostly on her own, thoughts focused on his smile, the light in his eyes, the excitement in his voice-

_He called me 'Glyn'._

She wouldn't let him call her that again. That was reserved for her teammates.

…she wasn't really angry, though.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hey, one good thing about social distancing is that I'm not longer working for 18+ hours a day. More time to write!

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-patching each other up-_

_We should've packed more first aid supplies._

The trip out to the location itself was uneventful. Upon arrival, their roles were easy to set up, communication lines cleared. The red-eyed rookies, Qrow and Raven, scouted ahead. Glynda and James led the rest of them forward, with the cloaked rookie, Summer, trailing behind in the trees to follow at the tail of the pack.

As they guided their teams onwards, however, her eyes kept drifting back to James. Thanks to the discovery of his newest bond, thanks to his Semblance, the goofy grin on his face just would not fade. Although she would never admit it, the joy in his eyes was adorable.

They found Grimm. Not just a few, either- a veritable breeding ground of shadow, a cesspool of darkness and the scent of rotting flesh filling the air. Without any human nor Faunus settlements for miles, it was an odd place to find so many of the monsters, but when Qrow and Raven stealthily reported back their findings a mile off the nest, it was time for Glynda and James to make a plan.

So, they did. And despite all of their skill and cunning, all of their pristine understanding of their teammates and how best to utilize their skills… it wasn't enough.

For all of her knowledge as the leader of the best team in Beacon Academy, Glynda was still just a twenty-year-old. And she had made a mistake.

Maybe that understanding was why, long after the start of the battle, Glynda immediately noticed the pallor of James' complexion, the swaying in his steps. Maybe that sinking realization that they had made a mistake, that they had rushed in needlessly, that _We should have waited for backup- _maybe that was why she immediately recognized something was wrong as he stumbled amongst a field of decaying Grimm corpses.

It was too similar to the day of the explosion at the communication tower. _I'm not doing this again._

When she finally fought her way across the battlefield to him, he had already collapsed onto his knees. "James, get up- what's wrong?" she hissed breathlessly, looping her arm around his waist and dragging his prosthetic arm over her shoulder to help him to his feet.

He wouldn't budge. With horror, she noticed two things: one, the cybernetic prosthetics were sparking, the metal chip in his forehead whirring louder than ever; and two, a huge gash on his shoulder blade was losing enough blood to stain the Atlesian uniform completely red on his organic side.

His Aura wasn't healing the wound.

Immediately, she began calculating what to do. If they stayed any longer, they would lose him. They couldn't afford to fight with less people, and looking at the nest, they had barely made a dent in the overall breeding grounds for the Grimm.

_We have to fall back. _

Climbing to her feet, she cleared her throat and called out to the battlefield, projecting loudly enough to cover the entire area. "We're falling back! Rendezvous at Point C!"

A chorus of agreements and affirmations flew back at her throughout the flurry of black shadow, and so, she busied herself with getting James to his feet whilst throwing Creatures of Grimm off of them using her Semblance. Her team would be alright- they would all be alright.

Suddenly, a newfound presence caught her attention as she scanned the area using her Aura. It… wasn't the Grimm. It was a Huntsman.

_Someone else is here? But who?_

She didn't have to wait long. James pulled himself up to his feet on wobbly knees, leaning heavily into her side. "Sorry, little Miss Beacon," he coughed, staggering in place. "Caught me off guard."

"You're still not good at using those prosthetics for a prolonged period, are you?"

"Good enough."

"Clearly not."

He sighed as she began to drag him onwards, her riding crop snapping through the air as she fought off attackers. With what strength he had, James raised his hand and began to fire his revolver at any creature that got too close. "Sorry about this," he mumbled lethargically.

She clicked her tongue. "Shut up. Everyone's retreating. We'll call Professor Ozpin."

"Sounds… like a plan."

And then, all six-foot-four of muscle and metal collapsed onto her. Glynda grunted under the exertion, automatically pulling her Semblance up to just hold the young man off the ground for her- he was too heavy to drag along.

Before she could make it forward, however, the presence she had sensed earlier was suddenly… there. Standing in front of her was a built man, an air of nonchalance around him whilst the shotgun in his hands fired sprays of shrapnel around, piercing through countless Grimm.

A broad, easygoing grin on a handsome, clear face framed by long brown hair, smiled down at her from underneath the rim of a cowboy hat. With one deft motion, the man lifted up James' bleeding arm, grabbed hold of his waist, and began to help Glynda pull the man along as they dodged the Grimm.

_He's helping us escape… but who-_

"Who _are _you?!" Glynda cried amidst the screams of the Grimm.

On the other side of James, she saw the man merely wink at her. "No worries- I've got you."

And Glynda could do nothing but press her lips into a thin line and direct her attention back onto the battlefield, pushing away the thought that was plaguing her mind.

_This is the guy. This is the one who's important._

For some reason, that didn't feel like a good thing.

As they finally broke through the herd of Grimm, entering the trees and evading the countless Beowolves and Ursai trailing after them, she had no choice but to bite her tongue and focus on the one thing that mattered most- getting James to safety.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Halfway! Through! The! Story!

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-watching them sleep-_

It was too long of a journey to make it back to the docks, so they settled for triaging in a nearby safe zone. The camp had to be set up in a cave, an abandoned den of wildlife long-since driven away by the presence of the Grimm. Although Glynda wanted to set up somewhere farther away, Qrow and Raven insisted that the cave was the best option in order to manage the situation with James and their teammate, Taiyang, who had sustained his own injuries.

One of her teammates had a Semblance that allowed her to control fluids. With nearly the same level of precision as Glynda herself, the girl used her powers to staunch the wounds and prevent further blood loss, directing their Auras to kickstart and begin to regenerate the lost tissue. Raven and Qrow- twins, as it turned out- had a few tricks of their own up their sleeve to take care of wounds, and soon, the two injured men were sleeping soundly by a hastily-made fire.

Qrow stood first. "So, ol' Jimmy here," he began, jabbing his thumb in James' direction, "is half metal and he _still _is the one who gets beat up?"

"Pathetic," Raven muttered, leaning back against the cave wall.

James' teammates quickly came to their leader's aid, and a hissed argument began to unfold between them and Raven. Summer tried to placate them, whilst Qrow shrugged, shoved his hands into his pockets, and called back, "I'll go wait outside for our backup. You kids can argue in here," as he left their stony chambers.

Glynda sighed, turning to her teammates. Silently, they all exchanged glances, leaving her to stand up, stretch, and head out the door while the three of them watched over the injured men and the stewing resentment between Raven and James' team.

They were tired. They needed a break. And while that frustration from their loss stewed, it was important to keep watch for any incoming Grimm.

The newcomer, who turned out to be a Huntsman himself, was the only one seemingly unaffected by the weariness and tensions plaguing them all. He followed her out of the cave, sauntering a few feet behind with a little skip in his step. Once they were clear of the entrance, she turned to him. "So. You. Who are you?"

"Walter Brown, at your service," he drawled, tipping his hat almost flirtatiously towards Glynda.

She narrowed her eyes, but held out a hand anyways. "Glynda Goodwitch," she said coldly. Something about him made her very uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the saccharine smile, or the flirtatious dimple in his cheek, or the way that his eyes kept darting to her lips-

-or perhaps it was the fact that, amidst a Grimm's nest, a lone Huntsman had oh-so-conveniently been there to save the day.

_I don't like you._

"It's a pleasure, darling." He took it in his own gloved hand, squeezing and holding on a bit longer than she would've liked.

Pulling away from him, she crossed her arms. "Don't call me that." All pretense of friendliness fell away now that they were no longer in proximity of her teammates. "Take off your left glove."

He raised a brow. "What, and you won't even buy me dinner first?"

"Do it."

Chuckling, he did, and instantly she could see familiar, silvery scrawl lighting up his left wrist. It read, _Hey, you. What happened?_

"This little thing right here appeared in the wee hours of the morning, so I figured I should try and find out where it came from," he explained good-naturedly despite her obvious distrust. "I'm pretty good with sensing Auras, and when I felt a match for this writing in the middle of that Grimm nest, I decided to take a look."

She watched him carefully for a moment. He didn't seem to be lying, and yet… something felt off still.

As the next few hours progressed, however, she quickly grew to realize that even if he didn't appear incredibly suspicious (which he did, and she would gladly ignore everyone who said otherwise) she would still hate him. Despite multiple hints (and a few outright demands) to go back inside- or to just go _anywhere else- _he insisted on hanging by her while she did rounds of the area, patrolling and seeking out any nearby Grimm. And, unfortunately, he did so with flirtatious compliments ever-present on his tongue.

If he kept it up, she was going to kill him.

The first time the older man said anything useful was when she finally returned to the cave to check in on their teams. Thankfully, it seemed as if everyone in the cave had calmed down. Qrow still wasn't back, but there didn't seem to be any fresh injuries, so it seemed that the tensions had diffused.

As Glynda knelt by James' side, the man now sleeping peacefully with a bit of colour back onto his face, Walter asked her teammate, "Do you need any help?"

"This isn't ordinary first aid- you know that, right?" the girl replied without tearing her eyes away from the delicate operation she was performing on Taiyang's abdomen. Apparently, his condition had gotten a little worse over their stay.

He chuckled heartily. "I can see what you're doing." Kneeling down next to her, he began to speak to the busy girl quickly, pointing out exactly what she was doing with her Semblance. Her hands stopped, eyes widening as he continued to perfectly deduce every detail.

Finally, he repeated, "I can help, you know."

"…I don't know how you know all that, but this is my Semblance. You can't-"

And yet, the man's confidence didn't fade. "And _my _Semblance is, to put it simply, mimicking Semblances, if only for short periods of time. C'mon, miss. Let me help."

Glynda's proverbial hackles began to raise, the hair escaping her braid on the back of her neck raising with gooseflesh. That… was his Semblance? Mimicry? A Semblance was something that was meant to be unique, something that defined oneself. How could someone copy that?

The whole idea of it reeked. Of what, she didn't know.

Glynda's teammate turned to glance over her shoulder at the blonde. _Should I say yes? _she asked Glynda with her eyes.

_No. _

"I'm good, thanks," her teammate insisted immediately, directing her attention back onto the unconscious blond and his injuries.

All of Glynda's confusion slipped away in just one instant when a familiar, large hand reached up to brush her bangs out of her eyes. "Hey, you," James rasped out, barely audible to the rest of the group. "What happened?"

Glynda leaned down, placing a ginger hand upon James' forehead. The chip above his eyebrow was still, calm- no longer sparking or burning to the touch. "You lost," she murmured, unable to keep her fond amusement out of her voice. "So. Do you still think you deserve a rematch with me?"

"Ha-ha," he muttered back, slowly dragging himself to an upright sitting position. "If you want me to prove myself another way, I'm sure you can come under this blanket and-"

Glynda's teammates simultaneously cleared their throats, and instantly, James' eyes popped open. It took him a moment to realize just how many people were in the room, how deathly silent it was aside from the popping of the fire, and how quickly Glynda's gaze had shifted from affectionate to murderous.

_This damn idiot. Why are men always so-_

James lay back down onto his bedroll and closed his eyes, not saying a word.

After a moment, the entire cave erupted into laughter, save for Raven, Glynda and Walter. Raven remained unimpressed, climbing to her feet and sauntering out the cave without a word. Glynda continued to glare daggers at the Atlesian boy, cursing him internally for the heat that was no-doubt showing on her cheeks.

And Walter said nothing- eyes thoughtful, bouncing between Glynda and James for a long, long while.

Still, the atmosphere was light and jovial. Within the hour, backup had arrived from Vale by way of airship. A few of their professors helped James and Taiyang onto the ship, and soon, everyone was heading back to Beacon.

Walter joined them. "I haven't been to Vale in a long, long time- been so used to livin' out here on my own. What's the harm in a little trip?" he explained nonchalantly.

Their professors let him join them.

Glynda stayed by her teammates and by James the whole way home, ignoring the hungry gaze which seemed to linger upon her. _Mimicry. _Something wasn't right.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: The good thing about this season seems to be that all of my favourite musicians are releasing music. That's something, eh?

Leave a review! Let me know what you think :D

* * *

Scribbles

_-lazy day-_

"Don't you have a class to teach?"

"No, Professor Peach is taking them on a field trip. Don't you have a briefing to get to?"

"It's only in the afternoon."

"Joy."

She yawned, nestling into cool, smooth metal. She had long since gotten used to the touch of Atlesian tech on her cheek, whirring gears keeping her company throughout the night. After years of listening to sound in her dreams, she had learned to find it soothing, rather than unnerving, like her former teammates assumed it was.

She would never correct them on it, though. They didn't need to know.

Cracking open one eye, she could see the orange-yellow glow of sunlight peeking out from behind her deep red curtains. It was still fairly early in the day. Normally, she would have panicked, rushing to get herself ready to teach. And yet, that day, she didn't mind, the haze in her brain contented to just curling up next to James a little while longer.

Still, she had duties to fulfill- and, based on the beeping of her Scroll, she wasn't going to be able to forget that fact anytime soon, either. Groaning, she reached back blindly, opening up the newest message sent to all Beacon staff members. Scanning the message quickly, she sighed, then pulled away from James' arms.

Immediately, he groaned. "Where are you going? I thought-"

She pushed his hand off, wandering over to the kitchen in her small studio apartment. Setting up the kettle, she began to measure out coffee for the two of them, barefoot steps nearly silent in the quiet of the morning. The water was slow to boil, so she headed to the bathroom, washing her face and redoing her hair. If she was going to attend the staff meeting she had just been emailed about, she would need to be presentable.

The kettle had just begun to screech on the stove when she finished her quick application of makeup. She snorted dryly as James groaned, finally rolling out of the bed to join her in the kitchen. She poured water into the coffee press, sighing as she felt two hands- one warm, one cold, both so familiar- wrap around her waist, a stubbly chin resting on her shoulder, a broad chest pressing into her back.

"Don't you have students of your own to worry about?" Glynda murmured.

James inhaled deeply, the scent of ground coffee brewing clearly waking him up a bit. "Atlas Academy is fine," he said, yawning. "Dr. Polendina is covering my classes while I'm here."

"But is that okay for a first-year teacher to be wasting time here in Beacon?"

"Oz asked me here, you know that. And…" She fought down the shiver which almost shook her body as chapped lips pressed against her bare shoulder. "I wouldn't call it a waste," he rumbled against her skin.

Glynda rolled her eyes. She had long since given up trying to figure out what their relationship even was- they had clearly given themselves to one another years ago, but the man never hinted at wanting anything more, anything official.

A small sigh escaped her lips as the coffee timer went off, allowing her to pour out two mugs of the steaming brew. Her old teammates constantly badgered her about the state of her relationship with James. Of course, she never said anything- how could she, when she could never figure it out herself?

_It's better this way, _she told herself for the millionth time. _A Huntsman teaching in Atlas, and a Huntress teaching in Beacon. It's better this way. _

After all, it was easier to recover from grief when no named connection was lost, right?

She shook her head, pushing away the thought. There was no point stewing on the possibilities. She had already spent too many (secret) sleepless nights pondering that very question. Gods knew that he had ended up nearly on death's door multiple times, and she had had her own fair share of scrapes. So, all she could do was enjoy the time with James while he was there with her- she didn't like the chill of Atlas, and it wasn't often that the Atlesian managed to find an excuse to stay with her in Vale.

They both grabbed cups, clinked the rims, and sipped on their coffee. A contented, cozy atmosphere filled the room.

She finally asked, "So. Meeting in the afternoon. What's before it?"

James grinned, holding up his left hand to show off his wrist. "I'm meeting Walter."

Upon hearing his name, Glynda's face automatically broke out into a smile. She had long since trained herself to react positively to Walter Brown's name, despite the fact that she would happily ship him off to a remote corner of Vacuo if she could. There wasn't anything wrong with him, per se- yet, that initial feeling of unease she had felt in her stomach ever since meeting him had yet to fade anytime she interacted with him.

That, and the man continued to flirt with her at every opportunity whenever James wasn't around. She hated it.

Still, she knew how important meeting with Walter was to James. Even after almost eighteen months, the man still had no idea which role Walter was supposed to play in his life. Although they had met up multiple times, each of those meetings resulted in little to no consequence, and James was just as baffled as when he had first awoken in the hospital, Aura finally restored from the wounds sustained within the Grimm nest.

Glynda didn't like it.

Yet, looking at James' face, it was clear that _he _didn't like it either. "What is it?" she asked, poking the furrow between his brows.

The man snapped out of his worried daydream, flashing her a wry smile. "I'd just like to figure it out sometime soon, that's all."

She hummed in disagreement, sipping on her coffee. "It's not just that," she pointed out, crossing her arms. "What is it, Atlas boy?"

He chuckled good-naturedly, but quickly, his expression steeled again. "It's just… _where _the words appeared," he said after taking another sip of his own coffee.

"…your wrist?"

He nodded, holding up his right arm- his prosthetic. Even in the dim light coming in through the blinds, the metal of James' right side gleamed. Clenching his cybernetic fist tight, he said quietly, "I… Walter's words weren't the first time I had writing on my hands."

She frowned, quickly scanning his real hand. Other than the dark blue, neat writing of Walter, there was nothing else on his hand. "What are you…?" And then, it dawned on her. Looking up wide-eyed at the man's metal hand, Glynda murmured, "…you lost the other marks, huh."

James shrugged. "That's not the issue, Glynda."

"What is it, then?"

He leaned back against the kitchen counter, running his right hand through his black hair. "I… Have I ever really told you what happened the day of the explosion?"

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Before responding, she chugged the rest of her coffee and refilled the cup. When that was done, she shook her head, gesturing for him to continue.

And so, he did.

Glynda's blood ran cold.

His hand had always been free of any writing until the day of the explosion in their first year- until halfway through the fight against the Grimm, that is. He had only noticed it when they were inside of the communication tower.

As he spoke, she could remember the day perfectly. She could remember how, five years earlier, he had looked down at his hand before the explosion- his expression had been so confused, so worried- she had tried to get him out, and he had said-

"What did it say?" she asked lowly.

"…'Help me'."

"And did you hear those words, too? Is that why you were so sure someone was there?"

His smile was strained. "You always were too smart for your own good."

Thoughts of the explosion were starting to make her feel sick. That had been her first loss- the first time she had truly felt fear on the battlefield had left her bruised and battered, ears ringing, only one thought in her heart.

But James was here now. He was safe.

Sensing her discomfort, the man took the cups from her grip. "You've got a staff meeting, right?" he said gently. "I'll wash the cups. Go get dressed."

Instinctively, she raised a brow, an amused smile on her lips. "Oh, the little Atlesian brat knows how to wash dishes now?"

"Hey, that's soon going to be Atlesian _Captain, _thank you very much."

She paused, processing that new information. Finally, she asked, "You're getting a promotion?"

He shrugged, but the boyish smile which replaced his brooding expression was enough to set her completely at ease once more.

"Huh. That's unexpected."

"I worked hard for it."

"Okay."

He began to wash the cups and clear out the coffee press, leaving her to shake her head and continue to get dressed. The silent words of _I'm proud of you _lingered unspoken, yet tangibly, in the air.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Look at them having a moment!

Let me know what you think :D

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Scribbles

_-fairy tales-_

James let out a long, heavy breath. "…Thank you, sir. For telling us."

"This," Glynda murmured, "this is all real, right? You're not playing a joke on us?"

"…I'm afraid not, Glynda, James. So… will you join me?"

"What must we do?" James asked.

"The first thing we must do is find the people dear to the Spring Maiden. She's older. She won't last for very long. We must find her successor-"

"I can do it."

Both men paused for a moment, looking at her incredulously. "Find her, you mean?" Professor Ozpin asked.

"…I'll become the Maiden."

"Glynda, that's not the point-"

She stomped down on one high heel, the sound echoing through the headmaster's office menacingly. "You're telling me," she hissed lowly, "that there's been a war all this time under our _very noses _and yet, when there's a chance I can help, you won't let me?"

Professor Ozpin sighed, setting down his coffee cup. He leaned forward at his desk onto his elbows, furrowed brows mirroring the concern displayed by his clasped fingers, the digits tense and strained. "Glynda, it's more complicated than that," he murmured. "Yes, we do need a new Fall Maiden, but that Maiden cannot be you. I'm sorry."

She strode forward, slamming a fist down onto the Huntsman's desk. Behind her, she heard James gasp in surprise, but she didn't care. What in the world did _that _mean? Ozpin had told her for years that she was the best recruit to come out of Beacon- she had become a teacher basically the _moment she had graduated, _and yet, she wasn't fit to carry this burden?

"Well, if not me, then how the hell are you going to find someone to do it?" she cried, seething.

Despite his lack of reaction to her aggression, it was clear that the headmaster was perturbed by her words. "Glynda-"

"Glynda. Calm down," James thundered at last. He stepped forward and planted both hands on her shoulders, yanking her back and away from Professor Ozpin's desk. "We need to focus-"

"On _what, _James?" she spat, spinning around. She jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest, glaring into his dismayed expression. "There's someone out there who's creating the Grimm, and we need to protect the world from her- but in order to do that, we have to find a young woman to carry the burden of the Spring Maiden. Someone who will wield those powers for good, who will protect this world-"

"That person isn't _you, _don't you get it?" he replied immediately, trying to be diplomatic.

She glared over her shoulder at the headmaster, who was watching the scene unfold grimly from his tall desk chair. "Why not? The Maiden has to be ready to give up everything. I am!" Holding her hand against her chest, she implored, "If we look at it logically, the chances that we will find someone who the current Spring Maiden can trust, to whom we can pass the powers off… it's slim to none. I'm right here-"

"Becoming a Maiden often means sacrificing your identity itself," Professor Ozpin reiterated wearily from his seat. "Glynda, while the offer means the world, I can't-"

"Why not? I don't have family to leave behind, and you know that I am willing to put my life down for this-"

Before she could utter another word, James grabbed her elbow and began to guide her towards the elevator.

"You two-" she heard Ozpin cry from his desk.

James called back, "We've always been on your side, Oz. We'll join you, no matter what. Just let us know what we need to do." And then, he unceremoniously pushed her into the elevator and let the door shut on them.

"James, what are you-"

But before she could continue, strong arms had wrapped around her, tucking her body underneath his chin. The twenty-four year old man let out a long, shuddering sigh, before whispering, "You're not becoming a Maiden, Glynda. You're not."

She scoffed on instinct. She didn't truly mean it, though- her mind was reeling from all of the sensory information battling against everything she had just learned.

The story of the four Maidens… it was all real. They were real.

Someone was making the Grimm.

Ozpin was trying to save the world.

And neither he nor James thought she was fitting to be a Maiden.

Yet… James was shaking as he held her.

"… Why not?"

"What did Oz want you to do ever since first year? What did he say?"

"…he said I would make a good professor."

"Exactly." He squeezed her tight. "You're a _teacher, _Glynda. A damn good one. He needs you here, at Beacon, to make sure that the Huntsmen of the future are ready for anything Salem can throw at them."

She sighed. His words made sense. Still… "But who will we find instead?"

James shook his head. "That's a problem for later. Right now, Oz has asked for allies. We can give that to him- you within Beacon, and me within Atlas." At those words, he released her and straightened out his uniform's tunic, standing at ease in the elevator as it made its way down the entirety of Beacon Tower.

"…but we can't just ask someone to give up everything like that, can we?" she murmured, leaning against the opposite side of the elevator wearily. She was going to need some tea after this- or maybe even a drink. Just… something. "I'm not leaving behind anyone, James. I can-"

"Don't say that. If you did become a Maiden, what would _I_ do?"

With that, the elevator door opened at last, and he marched proudly out of the elevator, leaving a flabbergasted Glynda to pick up the pieces.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Here's another one.

Let me know what you think!

* * *

Scribbles

_-teaching one another-_

James handled the truth of the Maidens, of the _world, _differently than she did. Then again, he had always handled things a little differently.

With Dr. Polendina as one of his most trusted advisors, James was swallowed up in Atlesian research facilities, working day and night to develop new technology to fight against Salem and the Grimm. He took a backseat from teaching, only coming in to support combat classes- and yet, his efforts to reduce human and Faunus intervention in battle won him rank after rank. He climbed to new heights constantly, the medals collecting upon his chest growing more numerous by the year. It wasn't surprising at all- he brought hope in these long, arduous projects of his. With his technology, then one day, there would be no need for living intervention against the Grimm. Maybe one day, it would all be automated.

When that day came, they could finally focus all of the Huntsmen and Huntresses in the world on destroying Salem, once and for all.

Glynda, on the other hand, threw herself into teaching. It took her a while to fully come to terms with her role in the battle to come- the fact that she was going to be used as a glorified babysitter did not sit well with her.

At least, that was how she viewed it at first in the wake of being rejected for the position of Maiden. That thought quickly dissipated, however, as she grew to know and love her students. _They _were the reason she was there. _They _were the reason she needed to _stay _there. After all, teaching was what she had always wanted to do, and for good reason- no one was better suited for it.

If she couldn't be there to support them through the harsh realities of the world, who would?

So, she threw herself into her work. It came as a surprise to no one on Beacon's staff when Professor Ozpin announced that Glynda would become his official assistant in addition to her role on staff- she was, by far, the most well-rounded Huntress they had. Despite her brisk nature and her sharp tongue, everyone conceded to her without hesitation. And, for Glynda, it gave her the chance to do what she had always wanted to do, ever since stepping into Beacon's halls- she got to work closely with Professor Ozpin.

The man's schemes were absolutely ridiculous. His teaching style was so laissez-faire that it stressed her out, with his absolute, unwavering nonchalance at putting students into dangerous situations. They were young, and he had _far _too much faith in all of them.

"Faith is often all we have in times like these, Glynda," he often said. "We must hold strong to it."

She didn't like that sentiment. It sounded too much like he was praying to a deity. If the war was going to end, though, it was going to be by her hands, and by the hands of everyone else who was in Ozpin's wide network of Huntsmen and Huntresses fighting against Salem and her forces. There were no deities involved in this fight.

It was rare that those forces got together, however. Too much risk to be seen, to have their organization unearthed by the masses and spread hysteria. So, it was a surprise when Professor Ozpin finally sent out a summons to numerous people posted around the world during one Vytal Festival Tournament. It was an unexpected request, but the man insisted that it was vital to their operations, so she, alongside many others, agreed to rendezvous in Beacon.

To see James again in person after so many months apart was an odd feeling. She expected there to be sparks, some explosive reunion.

It wasn't like that at all- just a heating of her tattoo, growing progressively warmer as the elevator dinged again and again behind her, rising to the top of Beacon Tower with him inside. And then, when they met again, they simply nodded in greeting and turned to face Ozpin, alongside the countless others from around Remnant who had heeded his call.

There were two key announcements Ozpin needed to make. The first was that they had found the new Spring Maiden, and they had a feeling that they knew who the next Fall Maiden would be. The Spring Maiden was a sweet girl- kind and bright and knowing. Seeing how dedicated she was to keeping their cause secret and safe, Glynda felt reassured, the bitterness long having since faded.

It was the second announcement that threw her off-balance. The last four to enter the office were faces she had grown to fondly respect over the years. After all, despite all of their antic, the rookies she had worked with so long ago were undoubtedly the best current team at Beacon Academy. Team STRQ, ready to finish up their final year at Beacon, were ready to be brought into the fold.

And when they arrived, Professor Ozpin told them everything.

The four of them were shocked. Flabbergasted, horrified, uprooted entirely. Raven stormed out, Qrow pulled out his flask (although where he got that much alcohol as a minor, she would never know- every time she confiscated his flasks he always got another), and Taiyang merely shut down, slack-jawed and limp like a broken toy.

It was their leader, tiny Summer Rose, who stayed cool. "So. You're the Spring Maiden?" she asked kindly, turning to the other woman.

The Maiden smiled and nodded, and the two engaged in light banter. Glynda knew better, though- underneath that silvery cloak, she could tell that the woman was trembling from the revelation. But Summer's smile didn't waver, and she soon gave Ozpin her agreement to join his cause.

She stayed strong, all things considered. It wasn't an easy truth to bear.

Turning back to everyone else, Professor Ozpin assigned roles and tasks, redistributing work and rearranging lines of communication as necessary. Things were ever-changing in the war against Salem. They needed to always be ready.

At the end of the day, however, she was still a teacher of Beacon Academy. So, when Professor Ozpin asked her to find Raven and Qrow and send them his way, she did so without another question. Ozpin knew far more than any of them. If the Branwen twins would be able to help their cause, then so be it.

After fulfilling that task (much to the chagrin of both students, who were still angrily trying to process what this all meant for them and what their role to play was in all of this) she found herself back in her studio, James leaning against the windowsill.

"The situation is changing, Glynda," he murmured. "We have a chance. We can fix this world, I just know it."

There was an edge to his voice- steely, calculating. "You've spent too much time in the lab, haven't you," she murmured. It wasn't a question.

His metallic limb glinted in the waning light of the sun. "We'll fix it, Glynda. No matter the cost."

"…We have to."


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: Woot woot, tragic canon stuff!

Leave a review if you're reading along!

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Scribbles

_-washing something-_

Professor Ozpin had long since given up on giving James- now a Major in the Atlesian Military and climbing ever-higher- his own room whenever he was on Beacon's grounds. The headmaster knew where the Atlesian would stay.

James was washing the dishes from the previous night's late-night takeaway when Glynda spotted it. As he moved, the muscles in his bare back flexing with each scrub, her eyes caught sight of something- a dark, messy scrawl she had never noticed before, running along the seam where flesh met metal. Leaning in close, she frowned, reading it aloud. "_Anyone have a drink?_ Who in the world was that from?"

He sighed, raising an unamused brow. "Who do you think?"

She snorted. "Qrow Branwen?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's better than the alternative from that idiot."

"What, you _don't_ want a label that says 'Jimmy' on you-"

"I swear to the gods, you say that one more time," he roared, only half-joking, "and I will fight you, little Beacon Huntress."

"We've proven again and again that you won't win," she snorted, appraising the writing. It did indeed belong to Qrow- she could forever recognize his writing from the million-and-one sloppy, poorly-proofread papers by him she had had to mark over the years. "How long have you had it?"

"Since our first mission together," he admitted. "I just didn't realize it until later. I'm surprised _you_ haven't seen it yet."

"What role does he play, do you know?" she asked curiously.

"The pain in my ass," he responded without hesitation.

She snorted. Over the years, James' odd rivalry with Qrow Branwen had built up in the most ridiculous of ways. If there was ever a need for 'passive aggression' in the dictionary, a photo of those two idiots would be perfect. _Thank goodness the two of them were never teammates- the Academies would've been razed to the ground by now. _It was likely the fact that their personalities were so contrasting, mixing like oil and water.

It did make for a good laugh whenever they held meetings with Professor Ozpin, though.

She smiled fondly, tracing the writing upon his skin with her fingertips. Yet, her smile quickly faded into worry, and she fell silent, absorbed in her own thoughts.

James picked up on her reaction instantly. "What is it?"

"It's Qrow. It's… something's changed with him, James. I don't know what, but… something's different."

It was true. After that fateful day two years earlier when she had told the twins to meet with Professor Ozpin, the Branwen siblings had never quite been the same. Perhaps it was just them acting with newfound responsibility of bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders, just as Glynda and James had.

Perhaps it was the fact that, soon after graduation, their team had encountered a decidedly unexpected situation that put a few members out of commission- Raven and Taiyang (of all people, Glynda would never understand how it was _those _two) had had a baby. A little girl.

Perhaps it was the fact that the moment the baby was born, they were settled in on the island of Patch, and Raven had properly recovered, Raven had agreed to go on a mission for Ozpin.

Perhaps it was the fact that the moment she had left for her mission, she had promptly disappeared, leaving behind Summer, Taiyang, and Qrow to deal with the fallout.

Glynda didn't know. Either way, complaining about the situation wasn't going to make anything better.

"How's Team STRQ doing?" he asked lowly, sensing her discomfort.

She sighed. "The baby's healthy, and Taiyang is no longer depressed. It's good their team leader is capable- I doubt that Qrow would be able to keep them on track if both of the girls left like that."

"Indeed," he hummed.

"And you? What of the attacks against Atlas HQ?"

"Nothing of note." The attacks had been happening for years. That was what happened when you created the most technologically-advanced organized military in the world- not everyone wanted the world to be put under strict order and regimes. But James had survived them all, and that was that.

They didn't have a lot of time together. Neither wanted to spend what they _did _have on the tragedies, the suffering.

She sighed, patting him on the back. "Finish cleaning and we'll head out."

"Alright."

And, with that domestic peace re-established, Glynda began to get ready for the day, the sounds of running water and clinking plates hanging comfortingly in the air.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: I've been getting a few messages about how to contact me during this pandemic- my Discord is faultyparagon#8010 if y'all want to chat!

Let me know what to think :)

* * *

Scribbles

_-spoiling-_

Time carried on. Students came and left, missions continued onwards, and the battle for peace against Salem's forces felt unending. There was a dullness to it all, a rhythm that she never could quite accept.

The only time she felt truly at peace was when she was with her students. No matter what batch of kids they were, there was never anything more rewarding than watching those teenagers grow up into strong, independent, capable Huntsmen. And, thankfully, she was able to prevent most life-threatening encounters- nothing was ever on the scale of the major incidents she had witnessed as a student, and for that, she was grateful.

One thing that continued to be a thorn in her side, oddly enough, was a certain Huntsman. After a few years of gallivanting around Vale and the surrounding wilds, Walter Brown finally decided he was going to be _her _problem. And, with the excuse that he had found more than enough special requests for his personal brand of Grimm hunting and recon work, he had been more than successful in making a good living for himself in Vale. Who was hiring him, she didn't know- but he clearly wasn't hurting for Lien.

It was untenable, the amount of stupidity the man would spew in order to win her affections. She could barely even parse what he said half the time, instead just focusing on reeling back the urge to treat him the way she once had treated James- namely, throwing him out of windows using her Semblance.

_He'd just levitate himself back with his own Semblance, _she thought bitterly one day as he winked at her for the umpteenth time, seated in a café while she tried to get some marking done. The man had taken it upon himself to inconveniently pop up every time she escaped Beacon's walls to do work. It was unsettling, and ask the years progressed, the unnerving glint in his dark eyes never seemed to fade.

The only thing holding her back from properly telling him off was his connection to James. Over time, the Atlesian man had just settled on the explanation that Walter was simply going to be a good ally. That meant that, as much as Glynda hated it, she couldn't say anything.

Well, she _could, _but with knowing how much James still hated himself for losing his arm- and the mark that had appeared on his right hand all those years ago- she didn't want him to have to lose anyone else tied to him by fate.

"Walter," James nodded one night upon entering _Crow Bar. _The staff liked to go for drinks after classes were done every once in a while, especially when staff from other school were visiting. Professor Ozpin always approved- "It builds the moral of the professional community, and we should protect that," he always said. Glynda knew it was just because it gave Ozpin an excuse to have a margarita for once.

Glynda liked going out with the rest of the staff, especially when James was around. It was a little slice of normalcy in an otherwise hectic life. What she _didn't _like, however, was seeing Walter nursing a beer at the counter every time they walked in.

And without fail, he was just _always there._

She didn't mind it as much when James wasn't around- then, she could ignore him easily with nothing binding them together. When James _was _present, however, she had to play nice, ignoring the winks and the subtle brushes and the pointed questions that always left Walter's lips lingering far too long on her name for her liking.

It took a few years for James to finally pick up on what Walter was doing. When he did, however, Glynda's opinion was set in stone- she had done right by not murdering James the first time they had met. The man clearly still had his uses, besides buying her drinks each time.

"What's wrong, James?" Walter asked once nonchalantly as James inserted himself between Walter and Glynda.

"Nothing. How have you been?" James replied, all politeness and cordial airs. Glynda knew better- his shoulders were tense, posture predatory. He wasn't happy.

She tried to bite back her smile as she sipped her brandy. Walter had been trying to serenade her with tall tales of his hunting exploits, as if she were some civilian to be impressed without war stories of her own. It was silly. The man just couldn't take a hint. Thankfully, James had finally noticed her discomfort and intervened on his own.

"Good! I'm still getting requests for my services, so I can't complain. And, judging by how this tattoo still burns," the shotgun-slinging man chuckled, "you're still doing well, huh? Still tinkering in your labs?"

"I am," the Atlesian replied smoothly. "Although I wouldn't call it tinkering."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Leaning around James, Walter looked at Glynda, winking her way. "And you, little Miss Goodwitch-"

"She's a Huntress, Walter. Address her as such."

There was a coldness in James' tone that surprised even Glynda.

It took Walter aback as well. "You know, James," Walter said at last, "for someone who's supposedly 'tied' to me, you don't seem to be on my side in this. What, I can't talk to Glynda anymore?"

Glynda sat up in her seat upon hearing the edge in Walter's voice. Gone was the usual teasing drawl- now, it sounded almost business-like.

James had picked up on it too. Glynda watched as his gloved prosthetic clenched for one long moment before relaxing again, the man cooling himself down, staying level-headed. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, trying to inject some humour into his voice. It didn't work.

Walter regarded him silently, not breaking eye contact until finally, the easygoing grin was back. "You're too stiff, man. Maybe it's just ol' Atlas," he muttered. "No one likes Atlas Academy."

"What-"

But Walter had already dropped Lien onto the countertop and begun to head out, waving goodbye without looking back at the two. After he had stepped out of _Crow Bar _completely, Glynda and James were left to parse what had happened amidst the hubbub of drunk professors playing card games all around them, not having noticed anything amiss.

_Something's not right. _And yet, no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't come up with a good reason for the other Huntsman to have acted like that.

She sighed, ordering another drink. She'd never understand men.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: The rest of the story should be up over the next few days, so prepare yourself for an influx of chapters from 21-30. I'm excited to finish this fic!

Let me know what you think!

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Scribbles

_-competing- _

When did it first begin?

Was it during the first time Glynda had been teaching Team STRQ and coaching them through the tournament rounds? Had it begun the night before that very first opening ceremony in the teachers' lounge, where James had first boldly announced that his teams would take the cup over Beacon's students?

Or had it really, truly begun years earlier, when a brash seventeen-year-old boy kept stealing her seat in class to get her attention?

Either way, it didn't matter. All that really mattered was that, despite all of their intimate moments and kind words and nights spent in each other's arms, the basis of their relationship was _competition. _And nothing felt sweeter than watching the panic on smug, stupid little James Ironwood's face when her students demolished his in the Vytal Festival Tournament every two years.

She wasn't keeping count. It was just healthy competition. (She was winning. He hated it.)

Although she would never admit it, her favourite times were when the competition was held in Vacuo. Their liquor was cheaper, the professors rowdier, and even though she couldn't see herself working there in the long-term, Shade Academy was a fun place to be for those few weeks during the tournament proper.

There was also just the possibility that she preferred attending the tournament as far away across Remnant as possible. Whenever it was held it Beacon, she invariably had to take on far too much of the planning by herself. Organizing international student schedules wasn't an easy task, after all.

There was also another issue with hosting the tournament. Whenever their teams competed in Vale, Walter was always there in the audience, ready to give unwanted commentary. Without fail, he would always end up in _Crow Bar _just when Glynda and the other Huntsmen went out to celebrate (and mourn) their students' achievements, or lack thereof. The others never noticed his presence- but Glynda always saw him, whether she wanted to or not.

_James and his damned tattoos. _If it weren't for his Semblance, she would have gotten rid of the southern man years earlier.

As the years wore on, however, she began to avoid Walter more explicitly. Whether he realized it or not, his demeanor had changed since she had first met him nearly a decade earlier. No longer was he made of coy smiles and teasing comments, trying to get under her skin. Glynda almost wished he had _kept _doing that.

"Your students won again," he commented dryly after a particularly rousing match between her students and James'. "I'm not surprised. You've always been the better fighter. No wonder your students are more capable."

"Is that so?" she replied, deadpan.

He hummed, draping his arms over the countertop in _Crow Bar _casually. "You always were the stronger one. I'm surprised he's made it this far."

She frowned, standing up from her chair. A few of her nearby colleagues sent her surprised looks, but she merely nodded cordially at them, indicating that she would be leaving. Once that was done, she paid her tab, and began to head out the door without a second glance.

Walter scurried after her. "What's the rush?"

"James Ironwood is good at what he does. You would do well to remember that, Walter."

She would always remember how his expression hardened at that statement, any trace of joy or connection falling away to apathy. "Alright then, little Miss Beacon. I'll be going, then."

She didn't say a word, simply turning back up to the airship docks as she always did in order to head back to campus. She didn't want to acknowledge his words- after all, no one called her that, James notwithstanding.

It took her some weeks to realize just how serious those words had been, though. From then on, Walter Brown didn't show up at the _Crow Bar _anymore, nor did she see him in Amity Colosseum during the tournaments. He was just… gone.

She didn't care. On home territory, she had enough things to worry about- her students, Professor Ozpin and his private missions, sometimes her peers.

Either way, the Vytal Festival Tournament did always manage to do at least one thing right at the end of the day- bring James back to her, if only for a little while. That was enough.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: Update 2 of the day.

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Scribbles

_-dealing with children-_

And so, the years passed. The war against Salem continued onwards, the battle seemingly never-ending. It was achingly slow, the sparse progress they made, only made worse by the fact that their numbers continued to dwindle while they waited for younger generations of Huntsmen and Huntresses to produce soldiers capable enough to handle the real fight.

_It's almost as if all we're doing is trying to make soldiers to fight against Salem._

She knew it wasn't true. In the Academies, she was teaching her students to be resilient and capable and empathetic- educating them on different aspects of life, and how to help the world through more means than just combat. She was making better citizens of each generation.

The thought lingered pervasively in her mind anyways, and she couldn't shake it off, no matter how much she tried.

But time carried on, and she had no choice but to keep training each new wave of potential fighters. Seeing the young ones join their ranks didn't fill her with as much joy as it once had, however. Too many of them died far too young. It wasn't fair.

Summer Rose passed away. For a long time, Glynda thought Taiyang Xiao Long would soon follow- if heartbreak was capable of murder, he would've been a victim. Thankfully, he and Qrow stuck together for the sakes of the two little girls the women of Team STRQ had left behind.

Glynda's teammates fell in battle, the notices of their deaths each driving stakes through her heart. One, taken away in the forests of Mistral. Another killed amongst the sands of Vacuo's deserts- not by monsters nor wildlife nor Grimm, but by bandits. The third died of illness, unable to use her Semblance to save the one person who needed it the most- herself.

And, amidst sleepless nights and tear-soaked pillows, Glynda hated herself for never being able to be there by their sides in the end.

The Spring Maiden died. They didn't find her successor. They did find the new Fall Maiden, though. She was a sweet young girl, far too young for the burden placed upon her. Amber was her name.

It was only when meeting Amber for the first time did Glynda finally, truly understand why James hadn't wanted her to volunteer. Amber was dedicated to the cause, despite all of the suffering being a Maiden would bring about. And yet, her eyes were so often vacant.

Amber didn't see a future for herself. She was just a Maiden now, removed from time and the rest of Remnant. And she was broken for it.

Glynda didn't want to see her students going through this. She never had a child of her own. And, while she was never a mothering person, she wanted to do what was best by them. Nothing in Remnant would give them the peace that they deserved, and she _hated _it.

Glynda mentioned this to James almost fifteen years after they became professors- almost fifteen years after she had initially offered herself up as a Maiden.

He didn't say anything at first, his eyes locked to his Scroll as he read an update from his labs in Atlas. She frowned, then shook her head, walking away. James hadn't been the same in recent years, either- Major General Ironwood was far too obsessed with building up the Atlesian Military with androids and technology. Why they even still had a Huntsmen Academy, she didn't know.

That night, however, James arrived at her door after late-night meetings with the Atlesian Council through the CCTS. In his hands was a bottle of wine and her favourite takeout. Silently, she allowed him inside, where they set up a comfortable dinner and ate in the dimly-lit apartment.

And as they fell asleep, James' newly-upgraded prosthetics gleaming in the moonlight streaming in through parted curtains, Glynda felt a kiss on her shoulder. He wouldn't say it, but he was happy she was still there. She was happy to have him, at least, too.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: Update 3 today.

Scribbles

_-seduction-_

She often wondered what happened to the people whose paths she crossed throughout her many years teaching. Walter Brown was one such figure- the flirtatious Huntsman ended up on her mind every once in a while, but without news about him, that was all Glynda could do- wonder.

James Ironwood would never admit jealousy. However, Glynda found a certain amount of joy bubble up in her stomach anytime she mentioned his name to the Atlesian man. After recognizing Walter's advances towards her, James' opinion on the man had soured, so mentioning him to James almost ended up as taboo. It was almost impressive, actually- she never thought she'd see the day when James preferred talking about Qrow Branwen rather than someone else.

Perhaps it was also just pure frustration at the distance between them. With their own discreet roles, both in their above-ground employment and their work on Professor Ozpin's team, the two of them were usually separated for most of the year, only sparing a few weeks in total to actually be in each other's presence. The heating of her tattoo became something that was more of a surprise than anything, the periods of cold in between their reunions far too long. Due to his newfound status as a general he was always asked to stay on duty in his fleet's airships when he came to Vale; therefore, they could no longer enjoy companionship in the evenings, either.

She wasn't expecting the forty-year-old to act like such a teenage boy, though.

Every chance he found, James would pull her into his arms. His lips would find hers, and they would embrace until they heard footsteps, or the elevator dinged its arrival, or one of their Scrolls went off. She didn't know how to feel about the whole situation- amusement, perhaps, at how they were acting like hormonal teenagers whenever they got within five feet? Embarrassment? Frustration?

Either way, nothing could match the amount of shame that filled leaden feet when she first heard Professor Ozpin clear his throat while she was tangled in James' arms. "Now, now, you two," she heard him murmur, the amusement evident in his voice, "While I do respect and admire the strength of your relationship, we _do _have a meeting to get to."

The elevator was open. They had arrived at the headmaster's office. She had ever wanted to sink into the floor more.

Straightening up her blouse (_goddammit, how had he managed to pop off a button?) _and fixing up her hair, Glynda strode as far away from James as possible. Behind her, the man followed suit, clearing his throat embarrassedly and taking post by one of the columns supporting the high ceiling, far from both her and Professor Ozpin.

The contents of their meeting took a decidedly dour turn, however. Amber was attacked. The teen was able to escape, but she was indeed injured, and they didn't yet know who the assailant was.

"We should bring her into protective custody," James insisted. "In our protection, we'd be able to-"

"We can't lead Salem's forces to the Relics," Ozpin replied firmly. "She's much more mobile on her own."

"Still, Salem's forces are making a move," Qrow murmured lowly when he finally joined their meeting. "We have to keep watch."

Professor Ozpin nodded. "That, we must. Qrow- I leave you in charge of checking in on her." As he outlined his expectations for reporting in on Amber's future location and position, James stepped forward, scrolling through the transmission from Amber which Ozpin had projected onto his holographic screen.

There was a description of the assailant. Glynda moved to join him, reading along. Unfortunately, the attack had happened in the night, far away from prying eyes. The only distinguishing feature was that the girl had managed to catch a glimpse of the colour of the assailant's Aura- silvery-white.

"…you didn't-"

"Don't even," James interjected, brow furrowed in thought. "It's a common enough Aura colour. This won't be enough to identify the attacker."

"No reports on Semblance nor weapon, either," she muttered.

They exchanged worried glances. If Amber had been found, and they weren't able to keep her safe…

They didn't know what would happen. They didn't _want _to know.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Update 4. I was not kidding when I said I wanted to get this story done XD

Leave a comment, let me know what you think!

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Scribbles

_-family-_

"Glynda, meet Winter Schnee."

The younger woman saluted her with such intensity that Glynda almost took a step back in surprise. Of course, that surprise simply manifested in a raised eyebrow, but her heart was in disarray.

Winter Schnee, the oldest daughter of the Schnee Dust Company- the intelligent, capable young woman was famous across Remnant for having revoked her inheritance to the SDC in favour of joining the Atlesian Military. Clearly, the act had stirred the tabloids of the elites on Mantle eternally. She had heard more than enough stories from James about how her refusal of her family's wealth had been the talk of the nation for many a month.

Yet, it was one thing hearing about the new recruit James was always proudly mentioning and seeing her in reality. Winter was beautiful and poised, but in only the most strict and disciplined of ways. She carried herself with a pride and dignity that befitted only the best of soldiers. And, judging by how James' opinion of her was immeasurable, it was clear that Winter represented that decorum through her abilities on the battlefield as well.

"It's an honour to meet you, ma'am," the twenty-year-old said. "Your work in Beacon Academy is well-known."

"Likewise," Glynda replied, holding onto Winter's gaze for a long moment. What was this feeling stirring within her? It wasn't pride, nor jealousy- it was something else. Almost… competitive. Why did she feel like she needed to prove herself to this girl who was twenty years her junior?

But then, as Glynda watched the young woman make a perfectly succinct report of her latest Grimm extermination mission to James, it clicked into place.

"Schnee, you have another briefing to attend," James rumbled at the end of her report. "Make sure to get some rest."

Winter nodded, saluting the two professors one last time before she turned and strode purposefully back onto James' airship, shoulders straight and head held high.

"She's a good soldier," James said quietly once Winter was out of sight.

"So?"

James didn't say anything for a long moment, lost in thought. Finally, a small smile quirked his lips. "What do you think?"

"Of what- Miss Schnee?"

"Yes."

"Why does my opinion matter?"

And, to Glynda's surprise, the tips of James' ears turned red. It was almost as if they were students in the Academies yet again. "She's… I've mentored her since she entered the army," he replied at last. "She's bright, that one. Despite losing Jacques' support, she's thriving. And, well… I felt like you needed to meet her."

She rolled her eyes, biting back the disbelieving smile that wanted to slip onto her face. Steadying her voice, she commented, "Why does it feel like you just introduced to your daughter?"

He didn't acknowledge her question, instead huffing suddenly, "We need to go speak to Oz, don't we?"

She began to laugh- at first, it was small and subtle, but very quickly, the ridiculous nature of it all overtook her, rumbling from deep within her belly. It felt good- unbelievably so.

"What's so funny?" he scoffed, glaring at her as they walked towards Beacon Tower.

She shook her head, clearing her throat. It wasn't often that she laughed like that. "I've heard good things, James," she finally murmured. "You've done well."

His eyes lit up. And, as Professor Ozpin pointed out upon their arrival, his flushed face oddly proud for the rest of the evening. Glynda was contented knowing that she made it so.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: Update 5. At last, we see the truth.

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Scribbles

_-flowers-_

Storms, in Glynda's experience, tended to come in slowly. Vale's climate meant that she could see the slow building of clouds from miles away, the horizon darkening slowly until nothing but blackish-grey figures loomed overhead. It was easy to tell when every thunderclap and every torrential rainfall would hit- so, it was always easy to plan for the weather.

So, sudden storms tended to knock her off her feet. And what a storm this was, personified in a single figure sitting in the corner of a seedy bar in the depths of Mantle. Glynda had followed the figure from Atlas Academy all the way to the lower-income, icy district where she found herself, drawing her hood over her head and remaining in the shadows in order to approach the storm that was going to flip her life on its head.

She didn't know why she followed. She could've just blamed what she saw on a trick of the light, or her memory playing games with her. Yet, amidst the festivities of the final rounds of the Vytal Festival Tournament, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she needed to follow that silhouette from her memories. And so, she ended up there, alone in Mantle's darkness.

Thankfully, she didn't need to engage. Even at a distance, James' silvery, messy scrawl was easy to read on Walter Brown's wrist, the laid-back man not wearing gloves for the first time in Glynda's memory.

She breathed out a small sigh at the sight. _So, Walter really is in Atlas, _she thought, curious. _But he seemed to hate it all those years- why would he be here?_

From where she stood, leaning against the wall with a pint of beer in hand to avoid suspicion, the glow from James' Aura-mark was clear as day to her. Nothing seemed to be amiss until she saw Walter's dining partner slide a thick envelope across the table, clearly packed with Lien. Walter's eyes lit up, and he pulled his right hand away from the handle of his tankard to count the contents of the envelope.

And, in that brief moment, she saw bluish-silver writing on Walter's right hand. She could barely make it out- so, as stealthily as she could, she slipped just a little closer, squinting to read what was written.

And when she did, and she heard the next words slip past Walter's lips, the pieces finally began to connect.

"He should've died years ago. That explosion should've finished him off, but here we are."

His partner commented dryly, "We're paying you well. He's gained too much power. His Knights are destroying our business here."

"Maybe your gangs should be better equipped to take care of androids."

"Maybe your dumb ass should've been better able to take out one measly scientist and his research assistant twenty years ago."

She was numb, eyes locking onto what was on Walter's right palm, exposed to her for the first time. '_Someone's still in there.'_

She knew those words.

Glynda didn't know how she made it back to the professors' wing in Atlas Academy, but she did. When she finally came to her senses, however, she thought back, long and hard, on everything that had happened over the last twenty-odd years, ever since James' accident.

_'Accident'. God, I should've seen it._

There had been attacks on Atlesian military headquarters for years. James had always mentioned them in passing- after all, local crime rings had been trying to leave their organization in disarray for far longer than James had been a part of their ranks. She had never even given a thought that Walter might have ever had a part to play in all of it.

_But how did he do it?_

James couldn't mark people twice… could he?

She said nothing to James, wanting to parse everything together on her own for at least a little while. There was too much going on, and James was incredibly busy- working as the newly-appointed headmaster of Atlas Academy, as well as _the _General of the Atlesian Military, had that effect on people.

Still, her burning questions plagued her all the way through the final rounds of that year's Vytal Festival Tournament. Luckily, her students came out victorious, adding yet another mark to the tally in her favour. She was winning her little competition with James by a landslide.

"A delivery for you," James stated wearily from her door.

Distantly, she replied, "Is that all you can say?"

"Your students won again. I get it," James mumbled, closing the door of her temporary quarters in Atlas behind her. "Here you go, little Miss Beacon."

She turned to face him, only to be met by a small bouquet. She started back, taking a moment to examine the flowers held up to her. "Honeysuckle and rose. Interesting combination."

He rolled his eyes. "Take your prize."

"Don't you have work to do? And this is hardly the practical prize."

The man had already pulled off his gloves and jacket, neatly draping them over the nearest chair. "Are you really going to rub your victory in?"

Glynda reached forward on impulse, grabbing his prosthetic hand despite his clear confusion. She usually didn't reach out for him, after all. Yet, if her suspicions were right and Walter truly was to blame for the incident all those years ago…

She was going to report to Ozpin the next day. And then, after her students were safe and sound, she was going to find Walter Brown, and she was going to get her answers.

"Glynda, what's wrong?" James asked, placing the bouquet down onto the small kitchen table. "Are you-"

She said nothing, simply wrapping her arms around his neck and looking into the face of the man she had given her life to all those years ago. _I protected you a lot back then. I won't let you down now._


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: Update 6.

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Scribbles

_-falling-_

Upon returning to Vale, Glynda was not expecting another storm to hit just as suddenly.

"Salem's forces found Amber," Ozpin explained quietly. "And they stole some of her power."

It took all of James' resources and wit to build a makeshift recovery chamber for the girl, giving her Aura the help she needed to at least _begin _the recovery process. They didn't know what she needed. She wouldn't wake up.

But, no matter what, it was clear- Salem's forces had begun to figure them out. The Maidens and the Relics were in danger, and they did not have enough resources, human or otherwise, to fight back.

It felt like they were losing.

Although everything was happening all at once, Glynda decided to report what she had learned to Ozpin anyways. "It's a threat not only to him, but to the entirety of their forces, apparently," she explained lowly in the shadows of his dark office. "We need to hunt him down."

Ozpin's face was grim, tense. "Glynda, I-"

"He might've been the first one to attack Amber."

"What?"

"The Aura. James' Semblance imprinted on his wrist- she could have seen the colour from that."

"It's too much of a stretch-"

"But not impossible."

"I'll send Qrow-"

"No."

"He should be prosecuted-"

She wouldn't listen. Instead, she explained her plan, filled out the paperwork for a short leave of absence, and went hunting for the Huntsmen responsible for bringing James so much pain.

And, after weeks of hunting down his tracks, Glynda did find him.

"You used your Semblance, didn't you?" she asked, one heel on his chest and her riding crop pressed against his face. "You mimicked his Semblance to get that writing to appear on your hand- on _his _hand. You tried to distract him with that marking. That's why it's tainted blue on you- it's tainted with _your own _Aura."

And Walter, all broken and bloody and bruised, no Aura left to spare, could only chuckle through the blood filling his lungs. "You… always were the smarter one, Glynda. The better professor, the better fighter," he said, oddly jovial through it all. "I don't know what you see in James."

"Enough nonsense. Why did you do it?"

"A job's a job. I like money."

She dug her heel into his chest, numbly processing the cry of pain it elicited. "That's _it?_"

"That's-" and he coughed, the pain evident, "-it."

"…Did you attack Amber, too?"

He snarled. "Damn bitch almost blew me to pieces. I knew James played a part in protecting her, but I… didn't think she'd be that strong."

"Do you have any idea what you could've done?!"

Coy, knowing brown eyes looked up at her through swollen bruised lids. "You always were sexier when you were angry, little Miss-"

"Don't call me that."

And she finished him off, bile rising in her throat. Mimicry was a filthy power after all.

And now, it was gone.

But then, in the wake of it all, it almost felt… empty. Like the whole encounter was an anticlimax after the years of distress and fear Walter had instilled in her during her youth, during those periods of time when she didn't know whether James would ever be okay again or not. Although she knew that, logically, finding out the truth would benefit all Academies, the mission still felt petty. Personal. She wasn't the composed, refined Huntress everyone thought she was.

And now, she had Walter Brown's blood on her hands, for better or for worse.

_This all could've ended years ago, if only we'd known._

Maybe it was due to all of her years holed up in the classroom- she hadn't faced combat like this for years, but none of this felt right with her.

Yet, it was done.

That night, when she called James on the CCTS, he picked up weary and exhausted. But he was safe, and as he spoke, she lay her head down on her hotel bed's pillow and fell asleep to the sound of his voice. He was okay. They were all okay.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Update 7. I don't know why this fic's main gimmick has become 'let's have heart-to-hearts while washing dishes' but here ya go.

Let me know what you think!

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Scribbles

_-chores-_

Glynda should've known that this intake of students was different ever since she had met little Ruby Rose.

Yet, nothing could have foretold _this._

"Glynda, stop."

She didn't respond, hands merely scrubbing the same cup methodically over and over and over-

"Hey." Large hands, one too cold, one too warm, grabbed her wrists. Gently, the man pulled the cup and the sponge out of her hands, setting them both in their proper place. "What's wrong?"

She didn't reply, merely drying her hands on the towel hanging by the sink. She dried, and dried, and dried-

"Look at me, Glyn."

She froze, glancing up at him.

_Don't call me that._

No one else called her that anymore, after all- not since her teammates.

James' weary eyes held nothing but concern for her, his accompanying crow's feet and wrinkles aging him far beyond what he should've been. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"…Nothing."

James rolled his eyes, guiding her to sit on a chair by her kitchen table. Kneeling down in front of her, he looked up into her face, his worry evident. "Women," he muttered tiredly. "Just say it. You've been washing that cup for twenty minutes."

She sighed, the sound thin and feeble between barely-parted lips. What could she say? She was acting like a robot, she knew. It had been a long, long evening- trips down into the vaults underneath Beacon Tower were always too draining for their own good.

But that night had been different.

What would be a good enough reason for him? Saying she was tired? Admitting that she needed a vacation or five? Coming clean about all of her deepest, darkest fantasies about just… leaving the battle against Salem behind?

Or would he ever understand just what they'd done to poor, sweet, lonely Pyrrha Nikos?

She didn't say a word.

He sighed, sitting down heavily on the chair beside her. Running his fingers through salt-and-pepper hair, he muttered, "I wanted to talk to you about something." When she didn't respond, still too wrapped up in her own thoughts, he explained, "Oz told me, you know. About Walter."

_That _was certainly one way to get her attention.

"…Oh."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because he was a threat," she whispered.

"No, Glyn- why didn't you _tell me?_"

She shrugged limply, the fatigue almost too much to bear. "He hurt you."

"Glynda, that was over twenty-five years ago-"

"He almost _killed _you, James. And he wanted to finish the job."

James groaned. "That's not the point-"

"Then what is?" she roared, standing up from the chair. "What the _fuck _is the _point, _James?"

He frowned, shock and confusion and worry painted in a jumble on his face.

She sighed, deflating back down onto the chair. "James, I…"

The man placed his hands onto her knees. "…I've never seen you like this," he said quietly.

It was true. After all of this time, he had never seen her cry like this.

But she couldn't hide it any longer, shame and frustration at her inability to compartmentalize her emotions only adding fuel to the flame. She wept, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as choked sobs made their way out of her throat.

Instantly, James was on his feet, pulling her into his arms. She wept against his neck, the anger and bitterness and agonizing internal chant of _why _just compounding until it rang, cacophonous and deafening, between her ears. The only sensation she could hone in on other than the pure, wracking sorrow was the heat burning from her thigh, the proximity to him almost searing.

"You did well, Glynda," he said, over and over again. She didn't know if he meant it or not. Maybe he was bitter that she had fought Walter in his place. However, there was no changing the past.

When the initial torrent was over, James murmured, hands stroking her loose curls, "What happened?"

Through deep, shuddering breaths and whimpered sobs, she muttered against his skin, "Pyrrha Nikos is just a little girl. You wouldn't let me become a Maiden- it was a fate too horrible to bear. We saw that in Amber. We… it may be the right choice, and we need a new Maiden, but…" and she sobbed again, her anger towards the cruel irony of it all unstoppable. In her mind's eye, she could still see Pyrrha's wide, horrified green eyes, the understanding dawning upon her and the subsequent _guilt _of it all too much to withstand. "She's _so young. _Why are we asking her do it?"

He didn't respond.

"She… she would be such a good professor," Glynda added. "She's bright, and strong. She's the only reason her team hasn't failed- the best student in this class-"

"You see yourself in her."

"Yes, but I wasn't so cripplingly lonely, and she's only just found a _place, _you can see it in her eyes, and-"

"I'm sorry, Glyn," James whispered, holding her tight. "I'm so, so sorry."

And he was. Winter Schnee was like a daughter to him. All of Glynda's students were like children to her.

And Ozpin's plans were going to force them all to willingly kill one of those children, and there was nothing Glynda could do to stop it.


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Update 8.

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Scribbles

_-death-_

The whole exchange took only thirty seconds. And yet, it felt like it lasted a lifetime.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, looking down at the chaos below- the screaming civilians, the horrified students, the screeching Grimm…

And the dismantled body of Penny Polendina, metallic parts strewn across the colosseum floor in a grotesque mosaic.

This wasn't what the Vytal Festival was supposed to be.

"Why didn't you tell me her Semblance was polarity?" James countered weakly, barely registering the situation below himself. "I would've protested the matchup last night-"

"Bullshit. Why would you have needed to know- I didn't know that girl was a _robot-"_

"She was more than 'just'-"

"I'm not here for your _toys, _James," she snarled, turning on her heel to glare him down. "You caused this mess. With your airships and your soldiers and your 'automated defense systems'-"

His expression grew murderous in an instant. "How _dare _you-"

"Fix it, James." And she turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?!" he roared after her.

"I'm going to _defend my students." I need to get to Oz._

But she couldn't defend them all. And that night, at the top of Beacon Tower, Pyrrha Nikos was killed, the Fall Maiden was lost, Professor Ozpin was taken away from them, and nothing was ever the same.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: Update 9. The last chapter will be posted this evening.

Leave a review if you're reading along!

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Scribbles

_-old, together-_

It felt like days before she was able to find a moment to herself after the beginning of the end.

The actual location of her breakdown wasn't ideal- a broom closet hardly lacked the poise that she preferred to carry at all times- but she had to make due in such times. She was honestly lucky she had found an intact building in which she could breathe momentarily.

Of course, that 'moment to herself' came with the company of someone else. She could never break down in solitude anymore, it seemed.

"The Grimm have been driven back to Vale's borders," James murmured, sitting down on a small box nearby. The light from the single bulb hanging from the ceiling exaggerated the shadows on his face, making him look empty, hollow.

That certainly matched how she felt. Her Aura was drained after using her Semblance to fight and restore as much of the city as possible. She was running on less than fumes at that point. "You'll be heading back to Mantle soon?" she said numbly.

He nodded. "With the CCTS down, we need to regroup. I don't know when I'll be back again after I leave. The Council isn't going to take any of this well."

"Fuck your council," she spat, ignoring his momentarily disbelief at her crassness. "Does your council understand how many lives have been lost? How many homes destroyed? How many children taken? Does your council understand that we've encountered the apocalypse?"

He sighed, hanging his head below slumped shoulders. "…None is this could have been predicted."

She leaned heavily against the closet door. "I know. But…"

"But?"

She closed her eyes, centering herself. There was no point getting too worked up- she simply didn't have the energy for it. "…We'll make it through."

"Oh, you're confident."

"Look at the students, James," she explained. "Look at how hard they're fighting. They… they're not going to let this be the end."

"...You're right."

For a moment, they shared a tranquil silence together. The world did feel like it had ended, but their students still lived on. They had been absolutely incredibly over the last few days, fighting harder than anyone would have expected of them. They had managed to push through the tragedy and the fear. They would keep fighting to bring back balance to the world.

So, it was only far that their professors did the same. _We let this happen. It's our duty to fix it._

"Remember the day we met?" James murmured suddenly.

She paused, a rueful smile automatically crossing her lips. "Well, yes. You have no idea how much I wanted to kill you."

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugged wearily. "Who knows?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face, too. "Was it my good looks?"

"Shut up, old man," she snorted. "More like Ozpin wanted us to get along, so I sucked it up."

At the mention of the late headmaster of Beacon, James' face fell.

She let out a long, shuddering breath. "…I wish Oz was here."

James smiled weakly, bringing a little light into Glynda's heart. James understood her sense of loss. Ozpin had been his mentor, his colleague, his captain, too.

But, their time alone was over. Her pocket beeped- a local message from a squad captain who needed to make a report. She needed to get back to work.

"We'll fix things, Glyn," James said quietly, standing upright again. He reached out and cupped her cheek, wiping away some grime off her skin with a callused thumb. "We'll fix it all."

She allowed herself to melt into his touch for just a moment. _After all this time, you're still here with me. Who would've thought it? _"Yes, we will."

And with that, they headed back out onto the ruined streets of Vale, ready to fight by their students' sides once more.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Update 10 of today, and that's that. This fic was originally inspired by a thirty-day writing prompt I found online, hence the thirty-chapter goal. But we're finally here, and it technically _did_ take around 30 weeks (which was the goal with once-a-week updates) so… hey, we did it!

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Scribbles

_-pillow talk-_

"You should shave. The five-o'clock-shadow-look isn't great on you."

He snorted. "You haven't seen me in months, and that's all you can say?"

She shrugged lightly, removing her glasses and folding them primly before placing them down onto her nightstand. "You're the idiot who apparently forgot what a _razor _looks like."

The man groaned, tugging off his shirt to reveal a bared torso. His cybernetic half glinted in the light of the illuminated lamp on the nightstand. "I'll shave it tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright." She sighed, rubbing her temples wearily as she squinted at her Scroll. There was just _so much _she still needed to take care of the next day… The to-do list never ended.

Her eyes fell outside of the window. Squinting, she could still make out the silhouette of Beacon Academy, outlined darkly against the crumbling moon, even without her glasses.

The mattress under her was comfortable, but nowhere near as comfortable as her old quarters in Beacon. And until the day she was able to take back the Academy, she knew that she'd never really sleep as well as she did back there- back _home_.

A large, callused hand rested on top of hers. "Early morning tomorrow," James reminded her. "We should get some sleep."

"…Alright." Pinning her bangs neatly back in a twist, she placed the Scroll on her nightstand and slipped under the covers, allowing the man to wrap his arms around her. Despite her denying it for all of these years, his built frame was still the perfect accompaniment to her slender one- laying on his human shoulder, she felt him reach up wrap his other arm around her waist. It was cool against her skin, the metal touch soothing.

"…It's been a long time since we've had some quiet, huh?"

"You're right. Things have been busy."

"All things considered, you've done a great job with Vale."

"Thank you. Although I wish I could say the same for Atlas. Jacques seems like he losing his mind."

"Well, Miss Schnee disappeared from Atlas."

"Ruby Rose and her friends all left Vale a few months ago for Anima. I would suspect they found their way back to each other."

"…They're good kids."

"They are."

They were silent for a moment, simply breathing in deep breaths. Finally, James reached back with his robotic arm and flicked off the lamp, allowing Glynda's small bedroom in the makeshift Huntsmen's headquarters in downtown Vale to fall into darkness. Moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains which were halfway-drawn.

She was exhausted. As much as she wanted to deny it, her age was catching up to her. In a few years, she'd hit the big half-century mark.

_God, _her crow's feet and wrinkled forehead seemed to somehow feel even more prominent in the waning light. For just a moment, she wanted to hide her face from him. In her heart, she knew she had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of- after all, living so long as a Huntress in a world of Grimm was a badge of honour.

Still, she wasn't the same young woman he had met in Beacon all those years earlier. _Why am I conscious of this _now? _It's not like he's young anymore, either._

"You taught them well."

She froze, tensing in his arms. Then, after a moment, she relaxed, breathing in deep, then exhaling slowly. She would _not _cry again in James Ironwood's arms. She was far too old for this, dammit- that one time had been the _last_-

"Of course I did," she scoffed finally.

He didn't comment on how thickly her voice caught in her throat.

She shifted, tucking her forehead under his chin, letting her eyes shut. "Seriously, shave this stupid beard tomorrow. You're not Qrow, you can't pull it off."

"I can do anything that moron can," the man huffed.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, I'm sure you're so much better, but it scratches." To prove her point, she ran a finger upwards across his chin, the sound of his rough stubble catching her finger. "See? God, the main good thing about you is the uniform, so don't let that slack."

"Alright, alright," he grunted, but she could hear him falling asleep more by the second.

They had an early morning tomorrow. He had only come to deliver a shipment of Atlesian military-grade Dust for the Huntsmen helping with the Vale relief efforts, so he would be returning to Mantle soon. And in the morning, she'd get back to rebuilding the city and planning yet another attempt to take Beacon back from the Grimm.

Sighing, she lifted her leg, slipping it over his. Her nightgown rode up slightly, and in the back of her mind, she just _knew_ that the tattoo- that stupid, ridiculous tattoo from when she was 17 years old- must be exposed, glowing silver alongside James'. Not all of his tattoos had brought him allies, but she was still there by his side. Always.

He was still a little bastard. She stood by that first assessment of him. But, after 28 years, she had to admit- she had a soft spot for idiots like him. So, she fell asleep to the sounds of his even breathing, the barely-audible whirring of gears in his cybernetic side more than enough to blanket her- at least for one night- in the same security she so desperately fought to bring back to Remnant.

And to her, that was enough. James Ironwood was still there, and her thigh still burned; and although she would never admit it, she wouldn't trade his embrace for the world.

_**-fin-**_

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I hope you enjoyed this story! It was a lot of fun to write. Leave a review and let me know what you think of good ol' Goodwood, and I'll see you all around in my other works! :)

Ongoing RWBY works:

_Inked _(Seamonkeys College AU)

_What We Call Home _(Renora Canon V4-6 Retelling)

_Moments in Time _(Arkos and Renora oneshots)

_Calling Bluffs _(Arkos College AU)

_Blue and Red and Grey Duvets _(Merkos and Arkos College AU)

_Excuse Me, Professor _(Grad School AU)

_Touch the Sky _(Mercury V1-6 Retelling)


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